


A Warrior Reborn

by FF14Librarian (stealyourshiny), stealyourshiny



Series: The Life and Times of Diveh Tia [1]
Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: Bad Decisions, Canon-Typical Violence, Head Injury, Implied Sexual Content, Implied/Referenced Torture, Memory Loss, Other, Past Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Slow Burn, Threats of Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-19
Updated: 2021-02-05
Packaged: 2021-03-04 02:54:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 26
Words: 26,137
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24806521
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stealyourshiny/pseuds/FF14Librarian, https://archiveofourown.org/users/stealyourshiny/pseuds/stealyourshiny
Summary: Diveh Tia doesn't remember anything between the time he left home and waking up in an Infirmary after the Battle of Carteneau. He answers the call for heroes after living in Lost Hope for five years, hoping to make some coin. Until he meets the Scions. Then his world is turned upside-down and more than just money, glory, and fame come his way. (Tags will update as posted. Eventual Urianger/WoL but it's WAAAAAY down the road.)
Series: The Life and Times of Diveh Tia [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1794241
Kudos: 17





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> The chapters follow the basic ARR storyline. Each chapter is sort of a slice of time from the Main Scenario Quests and how Diveh with his particular backstory and personality would react to these different events. So there are large skips in time between some of the chapters where his story doesn't really deviate enough from the canon story to make it worthwhile to write out. This will be part of a series with an eventual romance. _**Super**_ slow burn. Chapters will be posted every Friday.

The spires were familiar.

Not in the way that was obvious. He’d been staring at them for years from Lost Hope, after all. No, now that he was closer - at the Gate of Nald no less - they were familiar in a way that was bothering him.

A lot of things had been bothering him lately. His memories of the years before the Calamity were spotty at best, and non-existent at worst, but he’d been seeing flashes lately.

They had told him that he’d been found on the battlefield after Carteneau, wounded and feverish. His ramblings had led them to believe he’d been near the center of the fighting when the Calamity hit, and only through the grace of a Sharlayan mage and the Warriors of Light had he somehow survived. No one knew his name and he had no insignia on his armor, at least what was left of it - only the remains of a tattoo on his back, and another on his shoulder; both marred by some of his wounds, making them unhelpful. Before waking in the infirmary weeks later, he remembered very little. His name came eventually, followed by basic hunting and swordplay. Enough to keep the Brass Blades away, at any rate. Other memories had come back slowly, but anything between the years of him leaving home and waking up in the infirmary was gone.

His ears twitched and he turned to the source of the sound. He’d been staring too long, it seemed, and found a hyuran admirer in dark glasses watching.


	2. Welcome to Ul'dah

Momodi was tired. She’d been repeating the same thing over and over again to all the new adventurers that had come through the door that day, and while she did not begrudge her job, it could get rather tedious sometimes. A shadow fell over her and she forced a smile before looking up into the face of the most ragged miqo'te she’d seen outside of the refugee camps. 

“Why, hello there! Who might you be?” She took a second look at him, realizing now that his clothes, while old and worn, were clean, and there was a sword at his belt. His hands had calluses on them, and the golden eye that peeked at her from behind the bangs of his pale green hair with black fringe was an eye that had, as Wymond might’ve put it, ‘seen some shit’. “If you’re looking to join the Adventurer’s Guild, you’ve come to the right place.”

He nodded to her and crossed his arms, obviously uncomfortable in the busy surroundings of the Quicksand. His stance was wary, as if waiting for someone to tell him he didn’t belong there. She frowned slightly. His face reminded her of someone…

“My name’s Momodi and-” She stared at him again in silence for a moment. “Pardon me, but have we met before? There’s something awfully familiar about you…”

He only shrugged. Well if he didn’t feel like confirming or denying it, she would let it go. She sighed and smiled at him again. “I don't know if it's the Calamity, or just the march of the bleedin' years, but I'm findin' it harder and harder to keep track of all the names and faces... Anyway, forget I mentioned it─I daresay I will.” She grinned. “Let’s start over again shall we?”

The miqo'te smiled slightly and nodded his head. “Name’s Momodi, I own the Quicksand. I also run the Adventurer’s Guild here in Ul’dah. You look like someone who already knows how to handle a sword, so I’ll give you the short spiel. If you have troubles, I can do my best to give advice, though don’t come botherin’ every time you stub a bloody toe. All we ask is that you help out the best you can, try not to get yourself killed, and that you leave Ul’dah better than you found her.”

He nodded again. Not the talkative type, apparently.

“Well then, let’s make this official - write your name in the ledger here, neatly mind - I have to be able to read it!” Momodi turned the book on the desk in front of her around and offered a quill to the man. He took it and seemed to hesitate a moment before writing a name. She took the quill back and turned the book around again. “D’iveh Tia, huh? D clan then?” She smiled up at him, she knew quite a few from the D clan, maybe- he was shaking his head. She frowned and looked at the register again. He’d written 'diveh Tia'. No capital, no apostrophe. Her eyebrows raised slightly. No clan. If he was one of those Moonkeepers he wouldn’t be a Tia. While his hair color certainly matched the coloring of a Moonkeeper, the rest of him didn’t. He didn’t look like the type to go running off to start his own clan. They were usually loud and full of vim and vinegar trying to impress the nearby females. They also always made a point of announcing their new clan letter. Interesting. She looked up at him again.

“Well then, Diveh Tia. Welcome to Ul’dah.”


	3. Underneath the Sultantree

_Hear… Feel… Think…_

_**Remember.** _

Gods, his arms were sore. His head hurt too, though that wasn’t new. When was the last time he fought like that? Before the Calamity at least, since anything after had been keeping annoying critters, assholes, and Brass Blades away from camp.

“Ah, coming around now!” Diveh opened his good eye, which was not currently throbbing, and saw the light haired young man kneeling next to him.

“Would you mind telling me what that was?”

He held his hand out and helped Diveh to his feet. “If I only knew. A denizen of the void at any rate.” Diveh looked past the young man to the lalafell girl behind.

“A Blandga.”

Both of them looked at him as if he’d grown another head. He probably would have looked at himself the same way. He wasn’t even sure how he knew that.

“How did a voidsent get here?” Lady Lilira said after a pause. The young man shook his head, though he was watching Diveh out of the corner of his eye.

“Not how. Who, my lady.” The hyre brushed his hands off and turned to Diveh. “Unless it came to you in a dream? As soon as the battle was over, you fell asleep.” The tone was teasing, but the gaze was wary.

“I… no. I don’t remember.” Diveh put a hand to his aching head and frowned. “I’m sorry.” He doubted telling either of them that a giant floating crystal had been talking to him would help. They probably would have thrown him into a sanitarium. The hyre didn’t look like he believed Diveh, but didn’t press it.

“Well, I’ll need to go report this, I leave Lady Lilira in your hands.”

The young lalafell stomped her foot and glared. “I am not a swaddled babe to be handed off! I will go _myself_!”

The young man laughed as she stomped off. “As you wish, Your Impetuousness!” He turned to Diveh with a grin. “I’m sure I’ll see you later. Try not to fall asleep again, eh?”

And then he was gone. Diveh frowned slightly, wondering who the young man was before realizing Lady Lilira was already quite a way ahead of him. He jogged to catch up with her, though she ignored him haughtily until they reached Papashan.

“Thank the gods! You had us so worried! What would have happened if you had been injured or worse?!”

“I have already given you cause to weep, Papashan. You and all the peoples of Ul’dah…”

“Your- Do not say such things, we will find what we’re looking for, worry not! However, though I know it is not my place to make demands, please stay out of harm’s way!”

“...I apologize for making you worry, Papashan. I will refrain from going about un-escorted in the future.”

Diveh could almost believe her. Almost.

“Thank you so much, D’iveh! I understand you fought to protect her ladyship from voidsent fiends!”

Diveh didn’t bother to correct him. “There was a hyre too. Light hair, tattoos on his neck. Sarcastic.”

Papashan frowned and tapped his chin. “Oh! Thancred. You must’ve met Thancred. He’s a scholar of some sort investigating aether. Harmless, but too fond of the sound of his own voice.” The miqo'te had seen the man fight; this Thancred was anything but ‘harmless’. “At any rate, thank you so much for your assistance today D’iveh; and your reward.” Papashan handed him a small pouch full of gil before turning with the ‘guards’ to escort ‘Her Stubbornness’ back to the city. Diveh smiled slightly as they walked off. As if he wouldn’t recognize Sultansworn uniforms.


	4. Way Down in the Hole

Diveh was looking forward to a bath after this. The sweat was pouring off of him, and he was sure there was blood pooling in his boot. Then again, fighting an Earth Golem had a tendency to do that to a person. The voice he’d heard summon the golem appeared to be silent now and the boy, Wystan, had prudently hidden behind a boulder.

His muscles screamed at him, serving as a reminder that he was woefully out of shape. Not even the Blandga had given him quite this much trouble; his bruises probably had bruises. Diveh’s ears twitched back at the sounds of feet running toward them. He spun, pointing his sword and lifting his shield only to be confronted with the same young man as before.

“Damn, seems I missed all the fun. I see you didn’t need my help this time,” he said as he slowed to a stop and raised his hands. “Don’t shoot.”

Diveh rolled his eye and lowered his weapon. Suddenly, his head began to throb in pain and he dropped his sword. His vision blurred and the last thing he saw was Thancred running toward him.

**A flash of pain.**

_The sun was high in the sky and a much younger Thancred was enjoying the attentions of two lovely ladies. “I would compose a song in your honor, but I fear no words would do you justice. The Songstress of Ul’dah herself could not rival your beauty!”_

_The women giggled, “Oh, stop it!” Thancred grinned, slowing down slightly as they passed two traders that looked concerned._

_“I hear they attacked another caravan…”_

_“Aye and business is sufferin’ for it. Bloody Amalj'aa… what’s stirred them up, d’ya reckon?”_

Another raid… and I’ll wager that caravan was carrying crystals, much like the last. If they plan on summoning a primal we need to act quickly.

_“Are you coming, love?”_

_“You wouldn’t keep us waiting, would you?”_

_Thancred put a hand to his chest, “Perish the thought! And where in this city might you lovely ladies be staying?”_

**A dagger behind his blind eye.**

_Thancred was walking amongst the markets, the moon was low in the sky and dark red._

At this rate, grain will soon be more precious than gold. A result of the uncommonly bad harvests, to be sure… And we have you to thank for them, do we not? Aye, this weakening of the aetheric flow must be linked to Dalamud's descent. And, of course, to the primals. A fine mess. But we must not lose hope. Louisoix will know what to do. We need only trust in his judgment.

_He sighed before seeming to steel himself for what lay ahead._

**A cry as he fell to his knees.**

_Thancred was walking amongst the statues in the Thaumaturge’s Guild, a strange apparatus lowered over his face._

Truly a marvel of Sharlayan ingenuity... It's as if I could reach out and touch the aether.

_He stopped in front of one of the statues and began to scan the perimeter._

Time to focus... No more gallivanting about like before. The Scions are counting on you. Have faith. Just have faith. You can do this. 

_Thancred stopped, adjusting the mask in the direction he was facing._

Hmmm... This disturbance is recent. The Sultantree? Maybe Papashan will know something of it.

_Thancred lifted the mask from his face and frowned before walking off._

Diveh couldn’t breathe, his chest was tight and his head felt like it was about to explode. Louisoix, that name rang a bell somewhere in his mind… The hyre - Thancred - was kneeling next to him. “Hey, hey, are you okay?”

Diveh tried to focus. Slowed his breathing, closed his eye. In… then out… then in… then out… After a moment, he nodded and looked up into Thancred’s worried gaze. “You’re older than you look.”

Thancred’s brow furrowed and he opened his mouth to retort but a chirping in his ear stopped him. Diveh watched him put a hand to the linkpearl. “Hey. I was too late, our person of interest is already gone… The General? Alright, I’ll be there soon.” His hand came down and he offered to help Diveh up. “Can you stand?”

“Thank you,” he said as he picked up his sword and shield where he’d dropped them and allowed Thancred to help him to his feet.

“You know, my friends have gone to great lengths to provide me with means to follow aetheric disturbances, yet every time I find one, you’re standing in the middle of it. Maybe I should just start following you around.” He smiled at him and brushed the sand off of his own pants. He lowered his voice, “Be careful, my friend, the trap you so valiantly dismantled was clearly laid by Lord Lolorito. I heard the Blades mention him as they fled.”

“Thank the gods you came when you did, those bastards would surely have slaughtered us all!” Wystan was running up to them from his hiding place behind the boulder. “You have no idea how much I appreciate it, but we should talk again at the Coffin & Coffer.”

“I’ll walk Wystan and his men back, you should perhaps… rest a while,” Thancred said. He began to follow as the others left and stopped, turning back to Diveh. “Sorry, I just realized I never properly introduced myself. Thancred Waters, a humble scholar, at your service.” Thancred bowed slightly and Diveh couldn’t help the snort that escaped afterward. The man’s lips curled and he raised an eyebrow at Diveh, curious.

“Diveh Tia,” he finally replied.

“It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance then.” Thancred grinned and Diveh felt light-headed again as another bell began to ring in the back of his mind. “It occurs to me that we may have-” Thancred began, then shook his head. “Nevermind. I’m sure I’ll see you again if this keeps up.”

Diveh watched him go, feeling vaguely like he’d just experienced deja vu. That was happening a lot lately. It was very annoying.


	5. Duty, Honor, Country

Diveh watched as the Sultansworn ran off to the north end, around the Heir. More bandits to chase after; hopefully they’d find what they came for. He took the opportunity for a breather and walked over to the corpse of the leader. Garibald, he thought they called him. He knelt down, poking through the man’s pockets and hoping that any information on how he learned to summon voidsent wasn’t soaked through and ruined.

[O mournful voice of creation! Send unto me a creature of the abyss, my thrall to command, that I may smite mine enemies!]

That voice again. It almost hurt his ears, hearing one language but his mind somehow translating it. It was extremely disconcerting. Diveh looked up and saw a masked man in black standing by the great tree. In front of him a gargoyle seemed to form out of the aether. 

“Bloody hells,” he murmured as he straightened and drew his sword again. The gargoyle ran right for him, and Diveh only had enough time to raise his shield. The blow slid him backward through the mud a few feet, but then he tripped backward over stones in the pond bed. The water wasn’t deep, but it was cold. Luckily, he didn’t have time to think about it as the gargoyle’s claws raked down at him. He rolled away, but cried out as he felt a rip through the shoulder of his light armor. Times like these, he should have listened to the guard and gotten the plate. He just hated how heavy it was.

“Your very being imperils the plan. You cannot be suffered to live! Soon, you shall take your vile gifts to the grave!” The mage laughed maniacally. “Writhe as the venom eats its way through your veins!”

He could feel something burning in his shoulder, whatever the voidsent had on its claws was definitely going to leave a mark. Diveh glanced toward the tree at the mage and rolled his eye. Monologuing. When was the last time he’d heard a good mon- now was not the time! He ducked under another swipe by the gargoyle and slashed his sword across it’s middle. Rolling forward, he clipped the back of one of it’s knees. The gargoyle roared in pain and lurched to one side, hobbled. Diveh stood and spun around to face it again. _One good thing about voidsent_ , he thought, _they have bodies to damage, unlike giant magic rocks_.

“You certainly have a knack for getting in trouble!” Diveh ducked under another swipe from the gargoyle, striking back and spinning away to find Thancred running up.

“You have a knack for showing up late to the party,” Diveh retorted. They both darted apart as the gargoyle’s claws raked the air where they’d been standing.

“Another nuisance! All will fall before me!” the mage yelled. The world spun for a moment and they were surrounded by a black-purple mist that trapped them, the mage, and the gargoyle together.

“Well that’s annoying,” Thancred said next to him. “Will you shut him up, or shall I?”

Diveh’s eye narrowed at the mage and then the world slowed down. Almost as if another person were controlling his body, Diveh could feel himself dashing toward the mage. He also felt a well of energy building up inside of himself. Just as he reached the robed man, the energy exploded outward in a bright flash of light and Diveh felt his sword connect with flesh. When the light subsided, the mage was on the ground, bleeding out from a gash across his chest. The purple fog was gone and he could hear Thancred running through the water toward him. 

“That the wisdom… of the Paragons… should be brought low by a mere… mortal…”

He was gone. Diveh frowned, those words were tickling his memories. “Paragons? ...That is not what I was hoping for, but it’s not a surprise. What was that attack you just did? It dispelled the shadows of the Ascian’s spell and sent both man and gargoyle to their death.”

Diveh was scratching his chin thoughtfully, staring at the masked man’s body. “It was a... A…” He furrowed his brow, suddenly finding himself in the present again. “I… don’t remember. What’s that word you said? Ascian?”

“Ah, Bringers of Chaos. We weren’t positive that they were responsible for the recent problems in Ul’dah, but this proves it. Do you always answer questions with questions?”

“You’re lucky I’m even speaking,” Diveh retorted and turned to face the other man. “Now tell me what all of this is about.”

“Ah, sorry, super top secret!” Thancred grinned. “Do you have problems with your memory often?”

The miqo'te rolled his eye and sighed before brushing aside the hair that covered his face. Thancred, to his credit, only barely reacted, his eyes widening slightly as he took in the jagged scar that took up the right half of Diveh’s face, and the damaged eye that gazed blindly back at him. “Yes, I do.”

“You know, an eyepatch would make that less dramatic and necessary,” Thancred pointed out, crossing his arms.

“It would also alert any enemies to my weak side,” Diveh retorted. “Who is Louisoix?”

That question seemed to be the curveball that Diveh needed. Thancred took a step back, his arms uncrossing and his mouth opening. Unfortunately, he had more control over himself than Diveh hoped and he schooled his features into a neutral expression. “Ah, I see. You’re one of the gifted. That will change things a little,” the last part was said to himself. Diveh could hear the sounds of others running toward them now. “And on that note, I must depart! Until next time, Diveh.” 

Diveh almost wanted to smack that smarmy smile and his jaunty little salute as Thancred ran off, leaving him alone with the Sultansworn. “Thal’s balls, is that a voidsent?” The Sultansworn gathered around the dead gargoyle, curiously. Diveh only sighed and looked down at the masked man - the Ascian. Who suddenly dissolved into more purple smoke. A small crystal was left in his place, dark purple in color. Diveh frowned at it, taking a step forward. It looked similar to one he wore around his neck, but before he could touch it, it disappeared.

When he turned back the Sultansworn were all standing and facing him, with Papashan in the front. He smiled at Diveh and gestured toward the valley that led out of The Clutch.


	6. A Royal Reception

This man that had saved Nanamo from the voidsent, and then recovered her crown before dispatching another voidsent, looked out of his depth. Raubahn smiled to himself, remembering a time when he also felt out of his depth at functions like these. Of course all of the social climbers and merchants hoping to gain favor with the Syndicate and the Sultana started to swarm the poor sod after Nanamo had introduced him as her champion.

He decided it was probably a kindness to rescue him.

“D’iveh Tia, was it?”

The miqo'te turned to him, a relieved look on his face as the hangers-on migrated away from the General.

“Diveh,” he corrected.

“Ah, I apologize. I would like to thank you for all you’ve done for Ul’dah since your arrival. Momodi has spoken very highly of you.”

Diveh smiled and nodded. “Momodi is wont to embellish.” Raubahn chuckled. They both knew that was a lie.

“You come from the refugee camps, don’t you?” Raubahn was facing forward, but he could see Diveh’s look of surprise out of the corner of his eye. “Not to spoil your appetite, but Ul'dah is hardly so bountiful as this meal would have you believe.”

He gestured toward the table laden with fruits and vegetables. “Not that Her Grace can do aught to help them. She is thwarted at every turn by those on the Syndicate who derive their wealth from the workers' poverty. Beneath her mask of stately serenity, she is aghast at the plight of her subjects. But there will be no hope for the masses until the crown is restored to power.” Raubahn took a drink from his glass and turned to face Diveh. “There is much to do.”

Diveh nodded and Raubahn’s eyes were drawn to a flash of light at the center of his chest. “That light—what is it? So bright... Almost like...” They widened. “By the Twelve! Tell me true—have you been troubled by strange dreams of late? Visions—of the Crystal? Mayhap you put them down to an excess of aether?” Diveh blinked at him, and Raubahn could see some of the color leave the man’s face. He seemed very like them, though Raubahn’s memories of them were as damaged as everyone else’s were, the man before him triggered something.

“Yes. You are like they were... Allow me to explain. Before the Calamity, there were others like you, who fought the Primals. When the Garlean Empire threatened the realm, they helped bring together the three Grand Companies. They stood with us at Carteneau, that fateful day five years ago... The day we lost them. None who survived have forgotten the heroes' sacrifice, nor would any man deny they fought alongside us... But the names of these heroes come not to our lips. The once-familiar pages of their story are now blank to us. And in our mind's eye, their faces are naught but silhouettes amid a blinding glare…” He sighed and gave Diveh a smile, knowing he was probably overwhelming the man with information that he’d likely heard elsewhere. “It is for this reason that we have come to call them the Warriors of Light. When I look at you, I cannot help but think of them. You must protect that crystal at all costs. It is a gift from Hydaelyn, mother of all—and one she gave to you for a reason. Yours is no ordinary tale. If I am right, the fate of the realm may yet hang upon your deeds. Only heroes and martyrs are fit to bear such a burden. Let us pray you are the former.”

Diveh looked down at his hands and then back up to Raubahn before nodding. “Thank you, General. I…”

Raubahn frowned as Diveh seemed to sway, and put a hand up to his head with his teeth clenched. “Are you alright?” He was rewarded with the miqo'te collapsing into his arms. Yes, this was the Echo. They would get to know him well in the days ahead, Raubahn was sure.


	7. An Invitation

_The sky was falling._

_He couldn’t breathe, the air was so thick with smoke. The others were ahead of him, fanned out. Some were wounded, as he was, but had been able to keep up better. Through the flames he could see more Garleans, but not much else. His eye was throbbing and the blood was pouring down the side of his face._

_They’d been given the order to withdraw, but they had refused, telling the others to go; only the small group of them had gone forward to meet the dragon._

_Someone was yelling something, but he couldn’t hear it and they were getting further away from him. He could see the dragon in the smoke, lashing out around it as it released itself from the confines of its prison. A roar echoed in his ears, deafening him for a moment. He stumbled and coughed in the smoke, looking up at the shadow through the flames. It was gigantic. His mouth was dry and he could feel the anger, the pure rage radiating from the creature, even this far away._

_A bright flash of light and a bubble of aether billowed out from the battlefield and he saw his comrades disappear one by one when the spell hit them. A streak of fire shot through the shadow of the dragon. He reached out, desperate not to be left behind._

_The aether wrapped around him like a teleportation spell and he could feel himself being moved somewhere. When he hit the ground again the sky was dark, the red of the fires were gone. He could no longer hear the dragon and the sounds of battle. He tried to stand, but couldn’t see a way to pull himself to his feet. Couldn’t see anything anymore. He coughed and tried again, but there was no strength in his arms. He fell forward, and knew no more._

Diveh sat up with a gasp. His chest was pounding, and he could almost feel the heat of the flames closing in. The dragon. An enormous dragon.

It was daylight. The window was open, allowing a breeze to blow through. He was on a bed. His clothes were rumpled, but someone had removed his boots.

The door opened and Diveh looked up to see Momodi enter, carrying a tray. She stopped when she saw him and smiled. Her presence seemed to banish the memories of the dream for a moment. “You’re awake! How’re you feeling? They say you fainted in the middle of one of the General’s stories. Sure that made an interesting impression on the other guests.”

He groaned and flopped back onto the mattress.

“Ah, it ain’t as bad as all that. Here, get some food in ya, and then hurry over to the Flames’ headquarters. The General wanted to see you when you woke up.”

Diveh threw an arm over his face, trying not to remember fainting on the General. Gods he probably drooled too.

“Get yer arse out of bed and go see what needs done, I’m tired of takin’ care of you.” Momodi put the tray down and grinned at him before leaving the room. Diveh stayed where he was for a moment, thinking about the dream he’d had. It had felt very real. Not remembering things when everything around him seemed vaguely familiar was becoming very frustrating. He looked at his clothes and winced. Poor adventurers didn’t tend to have a lot of extra things to wear and he certainly wasn’t rolling in gil. He pulled his shirt off and began to wash it and his face in the water basin. He was not going to see General Aldynn after fainting on him in clothing that didn’t at least look like they’d been cleaned since he’d fainted. 

He hung it up to dry and peered into the mirror at his face, rubbing a hand over the stubble on his chin. Probably still okay. Pushing his bangs out of his face he stared at his reflection for a moment. Despite the addition of warpaint to hide some of it, he supposed it was a little jarring, and he didn’t need to terrify civilians any more than he already did. The scar covered a large portion of the right side of his face, starting above his eyebrow and going almost to his jaw. It was puckered and the skin around it twisted from healing improperly, which kept him from being able to use his eyelid and contorted the corner of his mouth. The eye was pale, unseeing, with a strange jagged line through it, matching the path of the scar. Perhaps Thancred was right and an eyepatch was in order. He’d stop by the Sapphire Exchange before going to the Flames’ Headquarters.

The crystal around his neck glittered in the light and he turned his gaze to it. The General had seen it flashing, which was odd as he usually wore it under his clothing and there hadn’t been that much light for it to reflect off of. It was a strange object, seeming to change size depending on how he carried it - small around his neck, but the size of his hand if he held it. Magic, obviously, but he wished he knew more. It was one of the few things he’d had with him when they’d found him after Carteneau. He didn’t remember having it when he left home, so he must’ve picked it up in those missing years.

Maybe he’d ask the General.

Maybe he’d just hide in his room until the next Calamity.

He’d _fainted_ on _The Bull of Ala Mhigo._


	8. Returned from a Copper Hell

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Content Warning for Ungust. :p

Three different leaders, three different Adventurer’s Guilds, three times the money he had before, and a lot more than three new blisters. He’d also had that same dream again, three more times, as it happened. He was getting back into the swing of it though. Muscle memory was returning and he wasn’t as nervous running at the front of a group of sellswords. Less so than he had been after they’d asked him to lead a group to check out the pirate cove in Limsa, at least.

He had just gotten his payment for helping to clear the giants out of the Copper Bell Mines when the Quicksand went silent.

A woman was screaming outside.

He didn’t even stop to think, Diveh was out the door and slamming into the stone balustrade above the courtyard. Below, a woman had fallen to the ground, and was surrounded by curious passersby as she was being threatened by a man that Diveh recognized. Ungust. He could feel his jaw clenching. That little shite - he’d had to run Ungust’s bullies off from Lost Hope more than once.

“Shut your mouth you thieving little swine! You stole from me! Don’t even think about denying it,” Ungust was yelling at the woman. Diveh frowned and walked down the stairs toward the group.

“Please sir! I didn’t steal nothin’! I paid for it with my own coin!”

He recognized that voice... Martha. Yes, Martha was from a village that had been destroyed by the Calamity and she had two children. Her husband was dead. She did laundry for a few gil a week.

“What rot! You refugees are all the same, can’t even afford maggoty mole meat let alone a choice cut of dodo! Give back what you stole or I’ll turn you over to the Brass Blades!”

Martha wailed in fear as Diveh began to push through the small crowd.

“Alright, I’m a reasonable man. Perhaps if you agreed to serve me in... whatever capacity I require, the authorities need never hear of this.”

Diveh could practically hear the disgusting smile he was sure Ungust had across his face right now.

“I ain’t done nothing wrong! Twelve as my witness! Someone please help!” Diveh got to the front of the crowd and met Martha’s terrified gaze. “Diveh! Please help me!”

He kept moving until he was standing toe to toe with Ungust. “Nice to see you again, Ungust. How’re the fingers I broke last time I saw you?”

Ungust took a step back from him and pulled both of his hands up to his chest. Then shook himself before pointing at Diveh, “You! Teach him a lesson!”

Diveh looked over as Ungust ran a safe distance away to see a roegadyn mercenary coming toward him with an axe drawn. “I’ll take care o’ this! The rest of ye can watch!”

He was barely paying attention to Diveh, intent as he was on puffing himself up with his fellow idiots. Diveh didn’t even have to draw a weapon, one step and he hooked his foot behind the roegadyn’s ankle. Diveh’s hand shot out and grabbed the axe handle and pulled at the same time his foot knocked the man’s leg out from under him. It was a simple matter of momentum and the roegadyn was on the ground with his own axe being held to his neck.

“Anybody else?” Diveh looked up at the other mercenaries that Ungust had hired.

“I ain’t getting paid enough for that,” one of them said, running off. His friend followed and Diveh turned toward the merchant.

“Ungust, you know as well as I do that Martha paid for whatever she has and that you’re just a slimy pile of spriggan shit.” He threw the axe onto the pavement as he walked, ignoring the man who grabbed it before running off with his fellows.

“What are you going to do? Attack a defenceless citizen in broad daylight?”

Diveh took hold of Ungust’s collar and pulled his face close. “Get out of here before I break all the fingers on your other hand. And I better not hear of you bothering the refugees again.” He let go of Ungust and turned away. Martha had pulled herself off the ground and ran to give him a hug, which he accepted awkwardly.

“Thank you so much, Diveh. I was so scared, I didn’t think anyone would help!”

Diveh grimaced, but accepted the thanks as gracefully as he could when he was standing in the middle of a crowd of people who were all staring at him. They began to disperse though and a few came over and pat him on the back. He pulled a pouch off his belt and handed it to Martha. “Here, for the camp. Get something nice for everyone to eat. And some new shoes for your kids, okay?”

Martha took the pouch and squeaked when she almost dropped it. “Oh, this is too much, Diveh, don’t you need it? You’re a big adventurer now, they need things like medicine and armor and weapons!”

“I’m fine, it’s okay, just take it,” he told her, starting to flush as she gushed over him. Martha stood on her toes and kissed his cheek before turning away. 

He breathed a sigh of relief.

“All’s well that ends well!”

He wished he could take that sigh back now.

“Nice to see you again,” Thancred said, smirking as Diveh turned around to face him. “I’ve been watching you since you departed Ul’dah.”

“Have you now.” Diveh’s tone was flat and he crossed his arms.

“Yes, and while always honorable, I will say you have a very nice… sword technique,” Thancred grinned. “But you did everything you were asked without complaint, you faced danger without flinching!” Diveh’s eye widened slightly and he could feel his face heating up. “Ah, my praise does not end there. You were always willing to aid those in need, even if there was no promise of compensation. Not many would do that… Which leads me to the conclusion that _you_ are who I am looking for.”

His brow furrowed, skeptical, as Thancred continued. “No, I mean it! Though I will mention that I harbor a burning interest about that talent of yours. Those visions. That’s what those headaches are, aren’t they?”

He took a step backward, but Thancred put his hands up. “No, please don’t run off. I promise we really don’t mean you harm. I know someone, a woman, who has the same talent as you. We’re part of a group that celebrates many of the virtues you’ve shown, and we would like you to consider joining our cause.”

“What’s this group called?”

“Ah, well, if you are interested in joining, just ask Mistress Momodi about the Scions of the Seventh Dawn. She’ll know where to send you.”

“Are you all Sharlayans?”

Thancred gave him a bemused look, “Did you learn that from one of your visions?” He shook his head, smiling. “No, we’re not all Sharlayan, but quite a few are.”

“I’ll think about it.”

Thancred nodded and gave him a little half-bow. “That’s all I ask.”


	9. The Scions of the Seventh Dawn

“So you’re the adventurer I’ve been hearing about,” she said as he walked in. The woman was about as tall as he was with blonde hair and pale blue eyes. She was quite pretty, though Diveh thought her clothing looked uncomfortable. To each their own, he supposed.

“I’m sure you have many questions, and I promise we will give you as many answers as we can.” She smiled at him. “Let me start by telling you who we are and what we do.”

She gestured to the group that had gathered into the room, amongst whom he saw Thancred. “My name is Minfilia, and we are the Scions of the Seventh Dawn. We transcend political boundaries and work for the preservation of the future of Eorzea. Amongst our gravest concerns are Eikons, or sometimes called Primals-”

Diveh’s ear twitched at that word. A bell in his mind.

“Our order is also home to a number of individuals with a specific talent. This talent takes various forms, but tell me - have you experienced any inexplicable losses of consciousness? Felt as if you were hovering, a mind without a body?”

The miqo'te flushed, remembering his fainting episode in the middle of talking with General Aldynn. The woman smiled again. “That is the power to transcend the boundaries of the soul. We call it the Echo.”

_The Echo. You have been blessed with this power…_

His ears twitched, looking for the source of a voice he knew wasn’t there. Minfilia paused, looking disconcerted, as if she had heard it as well, before continuing her explanation.

“The Echo allows you to pass through the walls of a man's soul, and hear the resonations of his past. You will be there in his memories, and see things as he saw them. You may even interact with that which you see, though you cannot change the outcome of events. The Echo will also enable you to know a man's mind, even if you cannot comprehend his words.” A wry smile. “It is only a shame that we cannot use it whensoever we choose.”

Almost as if to emphasize her words, his head began to hurt, and he could see Minfilia putting a hand to her own head as the world began to turn fuzzy...

_A younger Minfilia was pacing about the solar, wringing her hands. A knock at the door came and an elezen, probably well over 70 years old, entered the room. The two stood staring at each other for a moment before Minfilia broke the silence._

_“Archon Louisoix, it’s a pleasure to meet you at last… Though now I’ve said it, it sounds wrong.”_

_“Indeed, it does,” the elder man replied. A slow smile began to spread across his features until both of them were laughing._

Diveh could move. He looked down at himself and found he was standing in the room with Minfilia and Archon Louisoix as the two of them began to talk. He walked around the room, it looked similar, but was different. The light was different. He watched the two as they spoke, deliberately walking into their field of vision a number of times before concluding they really couldn’t see him. He wandered around them both, looking them over. 

Minfilia was probably in her early twenties, her clothes were a bit different. The Archon triggered something in the back of his mind. More deja vu. He pursed his lips, annoyed.

_“So what now?” Minfilia lowered her head and Louisoix lowered his voice._

_“Now we must part ways. Where I go, you cannot follow.”_

_“Are you sure there isn’t another way?” She looked up at the old elezen, hopeful._

_“None half as reliable. If I do not return, you must look to the others. You must lead them.” He put a hand on her shoulder and smiled sadly. “You will see the truth of this in time, Minfilia. One with the Light will come before you - one who is gifted like you. Together, you will greet the dawn.”_

He could feel himself being pulled out of the memory, but the words echoed in his head with a flash of Louisoix’s face, but from a different angle, as if he’d been the one on the receiving end instead of Minfilia. When he opened his eye again, he could feel the sweat dripping down the side of his face. His blind side was throbbing with pain, as it always did when this… Echo… happened. Across from him, Minfilia was also coming out of her vision. She shook her head and then looked up at him with wide eyes.

She opened her mouth and then hesitated, looking around the room at the others, who were all watching them both with curiosity. “I apologize, perhaps we should have everyone introduce themselves?” Minfilia forced a smile at the group and gestured toward Thancred. “Thancred you already know, he is charged with monitoring Ul’dah.”

The light-haired hyre smiled and waved before pointing to a miqo'te woman with white hair. “The lovely maiden beside me is Y’shtola. Limsa Lominsa is under her care.”

Y’shtola rolled her eyes and gestured to a hyre woman in a mask across from her. “This is Yda and beside her is Papalymo, they are charged with the Twelveswood.” The lalafell man next to Yda waved and smiled.

“I hope you will consent to joining us,” Papalymo replied before gesturing behind them to the elezen standing slightly apart. “This is Urianger. He presides over all things in these halls, I would recommend seeking him out when you have questions.”

Diveh took in the sight of the last person, wearing goggles and a hood. His robes were bulky and didn’t seem to fit right, but he appeared to be comfortable in them. The tattoo that they all (with the apparent exception of Minfilia) had was on Urianger’s cheek, which surprised him. Urianger bowed.

“Dawn may even banish the darkest night.”

Diveh put a hand to his head again as another thought flashed briefly through his mind. This group of people standing around Archon Louisoix, who repeated those same words.

“I am glad of our meeting.”

Urianger stepped back again, and Minfilia smiled at him. “Of course we cannot forget Tataru, our clerk. She keeps everything running smoothly around here.”

He turned to see the lalafell woman that had given him access to the building. She waved at him and came forward to hand Minfilia some paperwork. Minfilia accepted it and took a deep breath before facing Diveh again. “Primals are a danger to the whole of Eorzea. So long as they exist, there will be no peace. People with the Echo are instrumental in the fight against Primals and so I implore you to join us; to lend us your power.”

Diveh rubbed his chin and looked around the room. Everyone here gave him that uneasy sense of deja vu he had gotten when he first met Thancred. “May we… speak privately?” he finally asked, turning his attention back to the young woman.

“Yes, of course.” She glanced around the room. The Scions all nodded and moved toward the doors, only Thancred seeming reluctant, but eventually the door was closed and it was just Minfilia and himself.

“I saw you in a room like this one, talking to an elderly elezen. You called him Archon Louisoix,” Diveh said quietly after they had been left in silence for a beat. Minfilia remained still, watching him. “You seemed to be meeting for the first time, but also saying goodbye.”

Minfilia nodded before taking a few steps away, then a few steps back again. She thought for a moment before finally turning to him. “Thancred told me you have problems with your memory, is that correct?”

Diveh crossed his arms and nodded. He’d taken Thancred’s advice and finally obtained an eyepatch, though his hair still obscured it unless someone was paying attention. He hoped he wouldn’t have to show her. She hesitated again and paced back and forth once more. “I don’t think I should tell you what I saw yet. It may be something you don’t remember.”

He frowned, unsure if he agreed with that, it was his memory she’d seen after all, but he couldn’t force her. Minfilia sighed and then smiled at him again. “I’m sorry, I will tell you if it becomes something that needs to be relayed to you, or if you remember it on your own. I promise.”

“I will help you,” he replied, rolling his shoulders and then straightening. “If what you’re doing is really for the good of all and not controlled by any one city-state, then I will lend you whatever aid you think I can give you.”

Minfilia put a hand to her chest and closed her eyes, smiling. “Thank you. You don’t know what this means… Thank you.”


	10. A Proper Burial

“If you are going to the churchyard to speak with the priests, could you find Marques and tell him that there is someone that is ready for burial in town?” Isembard said. “I know it’s a little morbid-”

Diveh nodded. “It’s fine. I’ll be back soon.” He turned to the path that led up to the church and began hiking. He was going to need to save up for a chocobo, this was getting expensive for teleporting and while he didn’t mind walking usually, it wasn’t fun to walk dozens of malms multiple times a day just to save money. Luckily the church wasn’t far and by the time he’d finished contemplating his money saving techniques he’d reached it.

Looking around, he saw a number of priests, all wearing white, and one man in brown robes. He walked over to the one that stood out. “I’m looking for a man they call Marques,” Diveh said as the brown-hooded hyre looked up at him. He had a white beard and grey eyes and, oddly enough, a pair of engineering goggles pushed up to his forehead. His hair was longish and matched his beard, but he didn’t look like he was very old.

“I am Marques,” he said in a soft voice. Diveh frowned, this man seemed familiar to him. More of that deja vu. He shook the feeling away.

“I’m Diveh. Isembard asked that I tell you there is a body ready for burial in town.”

The man nodded. “I will get the cart and retrieve it, thank you.”

Diveh stepped away and entered the church to speak with the priests there. When he was done he found Marques outside fixing the wheel of the small body wagon. He straightened when Diveh stopped next to him. “I’ll go down with you, if you do not mind?” Marques suggested.

He shrugged and waited for the wagon to be ready. Marques took the handles and began to walk down the road. “Father Iliud said that you were found after the battle of Carteneau,” Diveh said after they’d walked in silence for a few minutes. Marques looked at him, though he kept his face forward. “Bad memory. The Father gave you the name Marques?”

Marques nodded and faced forward again. “Everyone here has been very kind.”

“I was at Carteneau as well, or so they tell me.”

He could feel Marques’s eyes on him again. “You… don’t remember?” Diveh shook his head.

“I remember leaving my home years ago, though I don’t know how long ago that was now… after that, everything is a fog until I woke up in an infirmary after Carteneau. I had been found wandering near the battlefield, wounded and feverish.”

They reached the edge of Camp Drybone and stopped. “I don’t know why I felt the need to tell you, but… You’re not alone.” Diveh smiled awkwardly.

“Hey! There you are!” They turned to see Thancred jogging up. “You’ve been keeping busy! Beat me here, questioned the refugees, been to the churchyard and back. Minfilia’s going to think I do nothing all day!”

“Isn’t that accurate, though?” Diveh smirked.

“Yes, of course, but she doesn’t need to know that,” Thancred replied, chuckling.

“It’s Ungust.” Diveh crossed his arms, his voice flat as he came to the point.

“I’m sorry?” Thancred blinked.

“Ungust would be the pile of tragus dung that you watched me scare off in the plaza the other day.”

“What about him?”

“I’m sorry, I will take my leave of you, it was… thank you, Diveh,” Marques nodded to them both and pulled the cart away. Diveh turned back to Thancred, who was frowning in the direction Marques had gone.

“Ungust is behind the kidnappings.”

“And you know this… how?”

“Because he’s Ungust.”

Thancred raised an eyebrow. “Piece of shit he may be, you can’t just accuse a man-” Diveh sighed.

“He would sell his grandmother for coin, I’m sure if we get to the bottom of this hole it’s going to be Ungust.”

“Proof is still required before turning a man over to the Immortal Flames,” Thancred pointed out, bemused.

Diveh sighed again and shook his head. “The refugees in Camp Drybone have all been pushed out to the water hole. They make a camp there. Leave things behind for the next group who come through on their way to the city. Whoever is doing this is probably trying to pick them up or trick them when they’re there.”

Thancred rubbed his chin thoughtfully and hummed. “Okay, let’s get some dirty clothes, we’ll go to the site and pretend to be refugees. Wait, first we’ll run around Camp Drybone asking for work, so whoever is behind this will hear there are new refugees in town. Then we’ll meet at the camp and wait for them.”

“If it’s Ungust, he’ll recognize me and run off,” Diveh pointed out. Thancred wrinkled his nose. “Get a hood for yourself then.”

Diveh rolled his eye. “Fine, meet you there in an hour?” Thancred nodded. “Good. Also, I bet you 10 gil and a bottle of liquor that it’s Ungust.”


	11. Lord of the Inferno

_“Lord of Inferno, hearken our plea!  
Lord of Inferno, deliver us from misery!”_

The Amalj’aa around them were chanting. Diveh found it very odd that they had not removed anyone’s weapons, they seemed very confident that whatever was going to happen wasn’t going to be stopped. If they hadn’t been woefully outnumbered, and if Diveh had any idea of where the exit to this place was they would have been on their way out already. Thancred was going to owe him a lot more than 10 gil and a bottle of whiskey now.

“O’ mighty Ifrit, Lord of Inferno! Your humble servants beseech you, grace us with your divine presence! O’ mighty Ifrit! We bring you ignorant savages who know not your godhead! If it please You, Lord, scorch their heathen souls with Your cleansing flame, and mark them as Your own!”

Diveh watched as what appeared to be a meteor shot into the sky and up to the moon before coming back down, spinning. A heavy thud when it hit the ground told Diveh that it was definitely not a meteor. Behind him he could hear the Flame Sergeant swearing and Ungust crying. Diveh grit his teeth and watched the strangely lizard-like head of Ifrit extended out of the flames.

“Pitiful children of man! By my breath I claim you! Arise once more as my loyal minions! Feed my flames with your faith, and all who stand before us shall burn!”

“No!” Diveh threw his hands out and the blue magical flames that the Primal unleashed fanned around him and the people behind him. He blinked and looked at his hands, which were glowing a pale blue color, and then back at everyone else.

“What’s this? Wait, I know thee. Thy smell is familiar… Ah, you art one of the godless blessed’s number, the Paragons warned of thee returning. Thine existence is not to be suffered!”

The creature roared at them and Diveh drew his sword. He turned his head to the Flame Sergeant and yelled, “Get away, back in the cave if you must!”

He didn’t wait to see if the Sergeant would go, instead he dove into the few Amalj’aa in front of him, slashing and spinning. He scooped up a shield from one of the dead and pushed forward to the Primal.

“How about we keep this between us?” he said to Ifrit. The reply was another roar and it’s long arms reaching out; claws slashing toward him. Diveh rolled forward, under the arms, and came up on one knee to stab at the creature’s underbelly, once, twice, then rolling away again to avoid a cone of flames. He spun against the length of Ifrit’s arm as it was swinging back and slashed at the monster’s rear. 

This felt familiar, not just the movements, but the battle itself. The heat coming off of Ifrit’s body, the way the creature would puff up before blowing out fire. It was as if Diveh had done this before, and knew exactly what each movement of the Primal meant. He almost felt like he was watching the battle from outside of himself, as he danced and spun, rolled and jumped; swinging his sword and smacking attacks away with his shield.

The present came screaming back as Ifrit jumped into the air. Diveh looked up, watching it spin, knowing that it was going to come down again with a slam. He looked left and right, no cover. A thought came to him and he slid forward with his shield up, right into the middle of where Ifrit would land. As the creature came back down with alarming speed, Diveh said a quick prayer to whatever gods might be listening and thrust his sword upward as the beast fell to meet him. The impact knocked all the air out of Diveh’s lungs, but the Amalj’aa shield took the brunt of the damage. He was still coughing in the dust of the beast’s landing when he realized Ifrit was no longer moving, and that he was stuck underneath it.

“Bugger shite,” he grumbled to himself and tried to shift around and leverage his feet against the monster’s torso. The blood thundering in his ears was subsiding and he could hear people yelling.

“Diveh! Diveh where are you!?!” Thancred was frantically calling for him.

“I’m under here!” he coughed and kicked at the damn body again, only to have it suddenly dissipate in a flash of aether. He laid there in the dirt for a moment, catching his breath. The shield was destroyed, and his sword… His sword had cracked. “Thancred! You owe me 10 gil, a bottle of whiskey, and a new sword and shield!”

The hyre jogged over to him and leaned over, looking relieved. “Sorry I’m late.”

“No you’re not,” Diveh retorted, but he couldn’t help the smile. Thancred grinned back and offered a hand.

“We gotta get out of here, there are quite a few Amalj’aa zealots wishing for my autograph. The Bloodsworn have already rescued the captives. I don’t know what will happen to them, Ungust will have a lot to answer for.”

Diveh coughed, waving more disturbed dust away when he stood. His eye caught a glimpse of something on the ground though as Thancred was talking and he walked over to pick it up.

A crystal, reddish-orange in hue. He reached down and the crystal suddenly lifted to meet him. “Than-”

_Hear… Feel… Think…_

_A giant magical sigil was beneath his feet, the crystal in his hands flashed orange and then two of the circles were filled. One blue - similar to the crystal around his neck - and one orange._

“Diveh?” He blinked and found Thancred staring at him. “We need to go quickly, are you alright?”

The crystal was gone.

He nodded and looked back at the warm glow of the summoning site before running after Thancred.


	12. A Debt Paid

“...My late arrival almost cost Diveh his life, and I wasn’t there when they served him to Ifrit…”

Diveh could hear Minfilia responding, but not what she said.

“Yes, he survived, but that doesn’t excuse the fact that he shouldn’t have been put in that position in the first place. I failed him utterly.” Diveh took a step closer to the door with a frown. “Just as I’m failing you all…”

“Thancred, you can’t blame yourself for every-” Diveh pushed the door open. “Diveh!” Minfilia smiled at him. “Thancred has told me everything, you did well!”

Diveh flushed and looked at his feet. “Uh, thank… you?”

“The Amalj’aa were doing as we suspected - stealing crystals and kidnapping people in order to summon their Primal, Ifrit,” Thancred smiled at him and crossed his arms.

“There have been similar problems in Limsa Lominsa and in Gridania,” Minfilia continued.

“I’m sure you’re curious as to why these things are related to Primals-”

“Primals feed on aether, crystals contain condensed aether, and people can create more powerful primals with fervent belief,” Diveh interrupted, crossing his own arms and keeping his eye on the floor as he listened. Both Minfilia and Thancred looked at each other and then back to Diveh. “So they were kidnapping people to Temper them so the Primal would be stronger, and stealing crystals to offer it a feast.” He looked up at them. “What?”

“I’m sorry,” Minfilia shook her head and smiled. “It’s just… that is not common knowledge; we were surprised, is all.”

“I was also surprised to find that none of the captives that had been with you were Tempered yet, which the Flame Sergeant claims is because of something _you_ did.” Thancred tilted his head curiously.

“People with the Echo are immune to Tempering,” Minfilia continued. “Which is why we are crucial in the fight against Primals.”

Diveh nodded, trying to remember who had told him about crystals and aether and primals before. His mind kept circling back to a voice that he thought sounded like the elezen scholar, Urianger. “I just said… ‘no’ and put my hands up, as if to block the flames,” Diveh explained. “The fire that Ifrit breathed out at us went around me like… like a wall, I guess?”

Minfilia looked thoughtful. “Perhaps because your Echo is stronger than mine? Well, we can ask Urianger to look into it. At any rate, feel free to take some time to yourself, you certainly deserve it!”

“Ah, before you go find a quiet bar and someone to sweet talk, I have some things for you,” Thancred grinned and led Diveh out of the Solar. He took Diveh down the hall to the left, which Diveh hadn’t been down yet. Mostly it seemed to be door after door - bunks and bedrooms he later realized. Thancred stopped by a door at the far end of the hallway and opened it. There was no window, since they were mostly underground, but it was a cozy room with a bed, a chest of drawers and a desk. On the desk, Diveh could see a bottle of something and he smiled.

“The room is yours. There’s a new sword and shield for you on the bed as well,” Thancred told him, leaning against the doorframe. “Oh, and here.” He waited for Diveh to open his hand and dropped a few coins into it. “I can’t have any debts hanging over my head!”

“Perhaps we can share some of that whiskey later,” Diveh suggested with a chuckle. Thancred nodded.

“Perhaps I’ll take you up on that. I must, however, take my leave now. Ungust and his associate will be standing trial and they’ll need me as a witness.” Thancred sighed and gave Diveh a jaunty salute before disappearing back down the hallway, mumbling to himself.

Diveh walked over to the bed and found two items wrapped in cloth. He pulled the cloth off of the shield and gasped. It was a paladin shield, but the coat of arms on the front was a familiar symbol - the eye of the Scions. He lifted it and stumbled backward a step as it was much lighter than he had expected. Mithril? He put the shield down and unwrapped the sword next. The sheath was plain leather, but well cured, solid. The hilt was plain as well, gold plated with a blue pommel gem. He carefully picked it up and slid it out of the sheath with relish. It was also lighter than his previous sword, and better balanced. There were a few scuffs on the hilt, but the blade had been recently cleaned and sharpened. The shield he looked at again more closely and saw the tell-tale sign of old repairs. These had belonged to someone else at some point. Someone in the Scions. Diveh put the sword back in the sheath and looked around to the whiskey. Top shelf stuff. Thancred had gone all out.

He must feel _really_ guilty.


	13. Before the Scions

“The Echo is different in each person that it manifests, though there art many similarities,” Urianger was saying. Diveh had been sitting at the table in front of Urianger for two hours now, listening to the elezen’s sonorous voice explain aether, Primals, and now the Echo. He could have been reading the Ishgardian Apocrypha for all Diveh cared with a voice like that.

“It has not been studied in depth, but it is known that all who have the Echo are immune to Tempering.”

“But what if they’re not?”

Diveh turned his head to look at the young man sitting nearby. Arenvald, he thought his name was?

“There has never been an incident recorded in which a person blessed with the Echo was tempered,” Urianger assured him. “However, history tells us that ‘twere many heroes of ages past who had extraordinary powers. Many now believe these heroes were blessed with the Echo. I know one who sees, instead of the past, the future. Another is more sensitive to a person’s emotions and desires. I know not what power Master Diveh may be able to access with his Echo, but it is sure to be amazing.” 

_Master Diveh?_ Diveh could feel his face heating up. Arenvald seemed content with the answer he was given and Urianger turned his attention back to the miqo'te. “You say that a blue light seemed to come from thyself and it was thrown forward, as if creating a wall?”

Diveh nodded and watched as Urianger tapped his chin thoughtfully. “Thancred also informed me that when confronted with an Ascian and his void minion, a light seemed to come from within thee, dispelling the shadows and causing the Ascian mortal harm.”

“I also was able to… to walk. In someone’s memory,” Diveh said, frowning as he remembered his first meeting with Minfilia.

“Truly?” Urianger seemed surprised. “I will have to contact the Students of Baldesion. Perhaps they can find texts that will give more details.” He bowed to Diveh. “I thank thee for thy information. Please, inform me if you have any other odd occurrences, or if any of thy memories return.”

“Gods, Diveh, please tell me you haven’t been sitting here listening to Urianger lecture for hours?” Minfilia was standing over him, smiling. “His words have weight, but even I can’t go that long.” Diveh could hear Urianger huff in amusement. “I told you to rest, not send yourself into a coma!”

“It was interesting,” Diveh mumbled, they definitely didn’t need to know that he’d spent most of the lecture watching Urianger’s mouth.

“At least someone enjoys learning new things,” Urianger said calmly, turning to put away some of the books he’d removed. Minfilia laughed and sat down next to Diveh.

“Who’s manning the bar tonight?” She looked past them toward the wall of alcohol. “Ah! Yda!” Waving in Yda’s direction, Minfilia leaned over to Diveh. “I’m glad it’s not Thancred, he likes to experiment.”

Diveh chuckled and picked up his neglected mug, drinking down the last dregs of ale as Yda came over and set a new one in front of him and one in front of Minfilia. “Urianger? Arenvald?”

The elezen shook his head, still organizing the books, but Arenvald nodded and moved his chair closer to Diveh and Minfilia. Yda turned away and brought back another mug for Arenvald before returning to her place behind the makeshift bar.

“So, Diveh, what did you do before all of this?” Minfilia smiled and turned her attention from her ale to him. 

“Before the Scions, you mean?” Minfilia nodded. “I lived at Lost Hope,” he responded, staring into his mug. The silence that followed was awkward.

“How long did you live there?” Arenvald asked after a moment. Diveh shrugged and took another sip from his mug.

“Since Carteneau.”

Arenvald’s eyes widened. “Were you at Carteneau?”

“So they tell me.”

“You don’t remember?”

Diveh shook his head and turned toward Arenvald. “I remember leaving home, though I don’t know how long ago it was, and I remember waking up in an infirmary where they told me I’d just been in a big battle and was lucky to be alive.” He sipped from his mug again and looked across the room thoughtfully. They were silent for a moment before Minfilia spoke up again. 

“Where is your home?”

He was getting tired of this conversation. Draining the last of his mug, he stood up. “For now, here.”

The two hyres shifted in their seats as they watched him stalk out of the room.


	14. A Hero in the Making

“Now that you have defeated a Primal, I’m afraid you’re going to find that you’re now famous,” Minfilia was smiling at him. “The three Grand Companies have sent people to court you.”

“Court… me?”

She nodded. “They want the newest hero to grace the Scions to join their ranks, of course. You don’t have to, but it doesn’t hurt to hear them out.” Diveh shrugged. “I will make a suggestion, however… The representative from the Immortal Flames said they have some other information for you that they would like you to hear without the others present. I think meeting them first, and alone is probably a good idea.”

He nodded and Minfilia sent a message to Tataru through the linkpearl. A moment later, the door to the solar opened and the Immortal Flame recruiting officer entered. He bowed before them both and then stood at attention. “Ah, um… Master Tia?”

Diveh nodded to him, frowning at the air of uncertainty surrounding the man.

“I… This is very unprecedented, so I wished to show you before you spoke with anyone else, but… we already have you in our roles.”

Minfilia frowned and looked at Diveh, who blinked. The officer fumbled into his pocket and pulled out a sheaf of papers, which he held out to Diveh. They were taken and Diveh began to scan them.

“You were listed as an adventurer, formerly of the Brass Blades. You were amongst the new officers recruited by General Aldynn when he reinstated the Immortal Flames. As a Lieutenant permanently on assignment with the Path of the Twelve.”

Diveh looked up sharply from the papers, staring at the officer, who looked as confused as he felt. “The Path of… the Twelve?”

The officer looked to Minfilia who stepped forward. “That is what the Scions of the Seventh Dawn were called prior to the Calamity. It is strange as I’m sure we do not have a record of you ourselves.”

“It says here that I’m missing, presumed dead,” Diveh looked back down at the papers again. There it was in writing. He was 19 when he joined the Brass Blades according to this. Left after one year, claimed to have been an adventurer for six years, and then volunteered for the Immortal Flames. He did some quick math - he was 31. He hadn’t known how old he was for five years, and the information had been sitting in the Immortal Flames’ office the entire time.

“It’s very odd. I spoke with a number of the recruits who were supposed to have served with you and under you and no one knows who you are. Even General Aldynn was surprised to see your name there.”

Minfilia glanced at Diveh and then back to the Flames officer. “Thank you for bringing this to our attention, you will be sure that Diveh will think about this carefully-”

“It is of course his choice if he wishes to resign the commission or to pick it up again,” the officer agreed with a nod.

“It says here also that I have a chocobo?” Diveh pointed to the paper and looked up again.

“Oh! Yes, I looked into that. Um… There is a chocobo by that description in the Royal Stables. Apparently, she does not allow anyone to ride her and is known to try to escape frequently. They didn’t know what to do with her. She’s such a wonderful specimen they didn’t want to put her down or release her into the wild.”

“Can you have her brought here?”

“Yes, of course, if you wish.”

“Thank you,” Diveh replied, offering the papers back. The officer waved him away. 

“We made copies for you to keep.”

“Thank you,” he repeated, looking back at the papers.

“It is a pleasure, Master Tia. I hope we will see you at the Remembrance Ceremony. Lady Minfilia,” the officer bowed to Minfilia and then Diveh before leaving the room with the door closing firmly behind him.

“Do you want to see the other two?”

Diveh had taken a few steps slowly backward until he was leaning against her desk while he read. There wasn’t much, it was basic facts with brief information about his assignments, but it was more than he’d had in five years. “What?” He looked up, processing what she’d said. “No… no. Not right now.” He looked back down at the papers.

She nodded and said something into the linkpearl again before stepping around in front of him.

“The memory I saw…” 

Diveh froze, but didn’t look up. His ears twitched forward however, showing she had his full attention.

“You were there. In the Path’s headquarters, with a group of others. I couldn’t see their faces, they were... distorted. Though I saw Urianger and Papalymo in the room amongst the distorted… as well as myself. You were in the front, arguing with someone… With Archon Louisoix... Your words were distorted too, I... couldn’t understand them.”

He slowly looked up at her. Part of him was seething that she didn’t tell him this when she first saw it. The other part was desperately trying to form the picture in his mind.

“You looked different. Younger. No eyepatch. You had a sword and shield with you… That sword and shield,” she pointed to the ones he carried now that Thancred had given him. “And here,” she tapped his upper left bicep. “There was a tattoo. It was the symbol of Rhalgr. And one here. An Archon mark, like the others have.” She touched the right side of his neck, which only had a few old scars, but nothing large enough to hide a tattoo if he’d had one there.

He shied from her touch and folded the papers in his hands. “I have a vague memory of an argument that happened, that the Warriors of Light were present for, but I don’t remember anything else about it. Like all things pertaining to the Warriors of Light, it is a bright nothing,” she continued, stepping back to give him space.

“I… need some air.” Minfilia nodded, looking perhaps like she regretted telling him. He stalked out of the office, brushing past Urianger as he went.


	15. A Good Binge

His corner of the tavern was dim, but not dark enough to hide from anyone. Good thing no one had come looking for him, then.

Diveh chuckled to himself as he drank from his sixth - no, seventh, mug of ale. He hadn’t been drunk like this in… well, a few years at least. At first it had helped with the headaches; then the nightmares; nightmares he couldn’t remember but had over and over again. Being pleasantly numb made both go away for a while, but then he had to drink more, and more, and more before it would help. As a poor refugee in Lost Hope, that hadn’t been sustainable. He couldn’t afford to keep drinking - well, that and he sometimes woke up in strange beds and whatever suave charm he could turn on when he was intoxicated would desert him and leave him awkwardly trying to collect his clothes and sneak out. 

Of _course_ he’d had Rhalgr’s mark tattooed on his shoulder bicep. He remembered thinking about doing it when he’d left home. A sign of rebellion, a giant ‘fuck you’ to the clan that had hated him. Identifying marks, the papers had said, one tattoo on upper left bicep; symbol of Rhalgr. Guess he’d gone and done it then. He drank deeply from his mug and wondered how the skin there had gotten so marred. It made him wonder about the one on his back too, and the one that had supposedly been on his neck. It had read, one tattoo on right side of neck; Sharlayan symbol. He’d had them when he joined the Flames, but who knows how long he’d had them, and now they were all gone. He’d also left the sword and shield in his room. He hadn’t wanted to look at them. If they’d been his, he wondered how they had ended up with the Scions again. 

As he put his drink down, the barmaid; what was her name again? Oh, yes, Folclind. Folclind brought him another. He noticed her put something underneath it before walking off, but the look she gave him as she turned away provided an idea of what it probably was. He was reaching for the new drink when someone stopped next to his table. Luckily, with only one eye, double vision wasn’t an issue, but he still wasn’t happy to look up and see Urianger standing over him.

“What… do you want?” he asked, carefully enunciating each word so he wouldn’t slur. He slid the mug toward himself and pulled the scrap of paper out from under it, sticking it into a pocket. 

“May I?”

“If you must,” Diveh replied, taking a drink from the new mug. Urianger pulled out a chair and sat down across from him. He wished the elezen would take off those stupid goggles. It made it very difficult to take him seriously sometimes.

“Lady Minfilia told me of thy meeting with the Immortal Flames.”

“Did she now? Did she also tell you of her Echo vision of me?” He drank again. Urianger stayed silent. He leaned forward angrily. “She did, didn’t she? Did she tell you before or after she finally graced _me_ with the knowledge of what she’d seen?” Diveh snarled, his voice low, though some of the other patrons turned their heads. He leaned back in his chair again.

Urianger hesitated, looking down at his hands. “She imparted the memory to me shortly after Thancred left with thee.”

The mug stopped halfway to Diveh’s mouth before he slowly put it down again. “Do you mean to tell me that she told you what she saw of _my_ past when she didn’t tell _me_?”

“Lady Minfilia wished advice on what to do with the information she had gleaned from thy memory. I believe she also spoke with Papalymo. It is most like because she espied us in the vision.”

“Let me guess, you don’t remember it either? It’s all a glowing light with everyone a giant blur?” His tone had turned bitter now. She had discussed his past, a memory of something incredibly important to his entire life, with everyone but him it seemed.

“Aye. Papalymo, I fear, also intimated the same.”

Diveh didn’t know what to say to that. He was tired. He was tired of not knowing, of not remembering. He slumped in his seat a little, fingers idly playing with the rim of the mug.

“I found out today how old I am. I didn’t actually know, because I had no idea how much time had passed since I’d left home, since that was the last memory I had before waking up after Carteneau. Do you know what it’s like to lose almost four years of your life?” He spoke softly, focusing on the rim of the mug. He’d had too much to drink, and he knew it, but at this point he didn’t care anymore. Diveh picked up the mug and took another deep drink from it.

“Nay, I cannot say that I understand what thou art feeling, but… I sympathize.”

“I don’t want your sympathy, Urianger.”

“I know.”

“What do you want? Why did you come find me?”

“...I wished to confirm with thee. Thou hast a tattoo on thy neck?”

“I have no idea. The papers said I did. Minfilia said I did in the Echo.”

Urianger nodded. “A tattoo such as mine is a symbol of Sharlayan. It denotes the rank of Archon and can only be achieved when one has excelled in a specific area of study. It is possible to… simulate the mark with magic, however. If one who cast the spell were to die, the mark would disappear. However, that Lady Minfilia saw you in a room with Archons and others who hath been Warriors of Light… It is possible that thou art a Warrior of Light.”

There was silence between them for a few moments while Diveh pondered this. He finished his drink. “What if I don’t want to be a Warrior of Light? Apparently I’ve already given my life for this world once, what if I don’t want to do it a second time?”

The elezen shrugged. “I know naught of the consequences should you choose that path. Perhaps there wouldst be none. Perhaps another wouldst rise in thy place. Perhaps you wouldst be dragged back by Destiny whether thou will it or no.”

“Bah,” Diveh put his empty mug down. “Go away, I don’t want to talk about this anymore. You’re ruining a perfectly good drunken binge.”

Urianger sighed and shook his head, but stood. “Lady Minfilia bid me tell thee that thou mayst take as much time as thou needst to decide what thou wish to do.” Diveh ignored him as he bowed and left the tavern. He rested his chin on a fist, staring at the floor for a moment before Folclind came over.

“Another drink?”

Diveh looked up at her and couldn’t help but smile a little at her attempt to flirt with him. He pulled the scrap of paper out of his pocket and looked at it before looking back up at her. She was biting her lower lip and looking coyly at him. 

“I would very much like one, but I’m afraid I have an appointment in ten minutes,” he replied, folding the paper deliberately and putting it back into his pocket. The smile on her face broadened and she nodded. Bending over, in order to give him a full view of her cleavage, she took his final mug and winked as she walked it back to the bar.

Ah well, if he was going to wake up in someone else’s bed, it might as well be someone who doesn’t live at Waking Sands.


	16. Someone to Talk to

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry I'm late! I moved last week and have been very tired.

He had stayed away for three days. 

After that first night, he’d left; walking to Horizon, then past, on to Scorpion Crossing. By the time he’d passed there, he knew his feet were taking him to Ul’dah. He reached the gates as the sun was going down again, and had made his way to the Quicksand. The next morning he had stopped at the Immortal Flames’ headquarters and had a brief discussion with the recruiting officer. Then he’d wandered around Ul’dah for a while.

He was feeling calmer now, but he still didn’t know what he wanted to do. He didn’t want to see or speak with Minfilia at the moment, so when he came in, he waited for Tataru to notice him.

“Diveh! Oh! We’ve been worried, you’ve been gone for days!” she exclaimed, dancing on her chair. “We tried to contact you on the linkpearl…”

“I took it out and left it here. Where is everyone?”

“Um, oh, um, well…” She took a moment to collect herself and began to think. “Thancred is keeping an eye on our hooded friends. Urianger is here doing research of course. Minfilia is in the solar. Do you want to-” He shook his head. “Oh, well then, Y’shtola is… I’m not sure what she’s doing, actually, but Papalymo and Yda are in Gridania. They’re supposed to be finding out from the sylph’s if there are any indications that they may summon Ramuh again.”

He nodded then, crossing his arms as he thought. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome, but is there anything else I can do?” She looked at him, worry in her eyes. He shook his head again and walked down the stairs.

He avoided the solar and the common room, going straight for his own room. There he picked up the sword and shield and the other bits and bobs he’d left sitting around. He hesitated over the linkpearl before finally picking it up and putting it in his pocket.

Gridania then. He’d see what Papalymo and Yda were doing. Maybe they’d say or do something to help him decide. He left the room and made his way back upstairs, passing Tataru without a word. Outside, his chocobo was waiting.

She trilled when she saw him and flapped her wings. It almost seemed like she couldn’t believe it was really him. When the Flames had brought her out, they had warned him that she was unmanageable, but the moment she saw him she was as docile as a dodo.

Well... _after_ she danced around him, shoved her beak in his ears, ruffled his hair, jumped up and down, and headbutted him a few times.

He stuck his fingers into her white feathers and scratched her neck, which made her puff up in pleasure, before climbing onto her back. He looked thoughtfully at the skyline before reigning Q’weh (he’d really been feeling rebellious when he’d named her apparently) in the direction of Horizon. It would probably take two full days to get to New Gridania, if he didn’t want to run Q’weh the whole way. As he wasn’t in a particular hurry, he didn’t see a need to. He’d probably stop at Camp Drybone for the night, then continue on into the Shroud, reaching Gridania by evening. Then he could find out where the sylphs were and see what he wanted to do.

Even knowing now what he did, no memories had returned in the days he’d been gone. His nightmares had returned with a vengeance though. He’d woken up multiple times in the past few nights sweating and breathing hard. Only remembering brief moments of the dreams - being on fire, drowning, or trapped in rock. The worst one was when he’d dream of the dragon. He never remembered what happened, but he remembered the dragon. Usually his old scars would be hurting when he woke.

By the time the sun was starting to go down, he reached Camp Drybone. He stopped at the Inn and had a room reserved before mounting Q’weh again and making his way up to the lichyard. The priests all greeted him as he arrived and he dismounted, letting Q’weh go where she pleased. He knew somehow that she’d come back if he called, and that she probably wouldn’t go outside of the lichyard.

He entered the small church and looked around. Most people were gone for the night, but the Father was there. Diveh hesitated in the doorway before Father Iliud looked up and called to him.

“Diveh, is that you?”

That was the incentive he needed. Diveh walked down the aisle to the Father and smiled. “Hello.”

“How are you?”

He shook his head, frowning. “Confused. Is Marques here?”

“Yes, I’ll get him for you.”

“Thank you, Father.” Diveh sat down on one of the pews and stared at the altar while he waited. He wondered what Nald’thal was like briefly. His clan had worshipped Azeyma, of course, though his patron deity was Rhalgr, whether he willed it or no. 

Marques sat next to him, but the two of them remained silent for a few moments.

“Did something happen?” Marques finally asked. Diveh shrugged, looking down at his hands.

“Sort of…” he said, and leaned forward with his elbows on his knees. “Do you know what the Echo is?”

Marques seemed to think for a moment, frowning beneath his hood. “I… feel like I’ve heard that word before, but… no, I can’t remember.”

“It’s a… talent, I guess. That some people have. The most common aspect of it is that it will let people see other people’s memories sometimes. The head of the Scions, Minfilia, has this talent.”

“Scions? That… also feels like something I should know.”

“It’s a group of individuals working toward something, much like any other group… Anyway, Minfilia saw one of my memories. One of the memories that I don’t remember.”

He turned his head and saw Marques’s eyes widen in surprise. “That’s good isn’t it?”

Diveh sighed. “I don’t know. She didn’t tell me what she saw when she first saw it, but she told me a few days ago what it was.”

“What changed in those few days?” Marques asked, bringing his hand to his chin thoughtfully.

“Killing Ifrit,” was Diveh’s response. Marques’ questioning look made him continue. “After I fought Ifrit, the story got out and spread amongst the Grand Companies. They all came knocking, wanting to recruit me, but the Immortal Flames had a surprise.”

He sat up and leaned back in the pew, looking at the ceiling now. “They had papers stating that I was already a Lieutenant in the Flames, and that I had been permanently assigned to something called the Path of the Twelve.”

His friend put a hand to his head and grunted in pain. “That… that’s something I know. I can feel it. I know about that…” Marques said, closing his eyes and trying to remember.

“I’ll make it easy for you. The Path of the Twelve, it was explained to me, was a group that was created before the Calamity. The members were all Archons from Sharlayan. With the help of some adventurers with the Echo they were the group that stopped Bahamut with Archon Louisoix. In short, they helped the people now known as the Warriors of Light.”

“And… you were one of them?”

“So they say,” Diveh straightened in his seat before reaching into his jacket and pulling out the crystal around his neck. “They told me this is a Crystal of Light and that only those Chosen by Hydaelan receive them. This was one of the few things that I had on me when I awoke in the hospital. Meaning I had it during the battle, and possibly before the battle. So, in short, they basically told me that I’m probably a Warrior of Light. One of the ones that’s supposed to have disappeared after Bahamut was defeated.”

Marques stared at the crystal that Diveh was holding, and waited for the other man to continue.

“I don’t… I don’t know how I feel about that knowledge. I don’t understand why I’m here and the others, who I still can’t remember, are gone. Why no one seems to know who I am. The papers from the Flames said that I was recruited by General Aldynn himself, and yet when we met face-to-face neither of us knew the other. I don’t like the idea that I’m being herded into a role that I’ve already played, that I apparently gave my life for. Or didn’t give my life for. I don’t know. It’s all very confusing and frustrating. I’m angry at Minfilia for not telling me what she saw immediately, but I’m also angry that I still haven’t recovered any memories, even the one she described to me. The only difference is that my nightmares have gotten worse and my head has hurt more.”

Diveh sighed and slumped forward again. “I’m sorry, Marques. I just… I guess I haven’t had anyone to talk to about it that would understand. I stopped here on the way to Gridania and remembered you. I hoped that you might understand a little, at least.”

“...May I see the crystal?”

He looked up, seeing the frown on Marques’ face and shrugged before reaching up and pulling it off of his neck. “Heh, you’re about to see something weird happen,” he said as he handed the small, perhaps 3 ilm, crystal to Marques, who made a surprised noise when what was put into his hand was suddenly 8 ilms. 

“It… got bigger!” His eyes were round as he looked at the item in his hand.

“It’s always done that. I don’t know why. Magic, obviously, but it just… knows. When it’s around my neck it’s small and easy to carry, when I take it out it gets bigger, the size of my hand.”

“Fascinating,” Marques looked the crystal over, turning it this way and that. “It’s flawless. Crystals like that are very rare.” He frowned and looked at Diveh. “I… don’t know how I know that. Perhaps Professor Lamberteint told me.”

He handed the crystal back to Diveh. As he did so, Father Iliud came up to both of them and smiled. “I apologize, Diveh, but I couldn’t help but hear what you told Marques.” Diveh looked up at the older man, his brow furrowed. “I think I can help.”

“How?”

“Right now, regardless of anything that has happened in the past, remembered or not, do you still wish to help people?”

Diveh thought for a moment. Martha and her children came to mind. Then Isembard, the Flames that fought the Amalj’aa with him, Thancred, General Raubahn, the Father, Marques, Urianger, Minfilia, and the rest of the Scions.

“...Yes. I think I do.”

“Then there is your answer.”

Diveh chuckled and sighed, shaking his head. Were that everything was that easy. “Thank you Father Iliud. I shall keep that in mind as I travel to Gridania.”

Father Iliud only nodded with a smile on his face, glad to have been of some help.


	17. Spirited Away

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Late again. D: Sorry!

Diveh walked into the open front of the Order of the Twin Serpents headquarters and looked around. He heard someone call his name and turned to find Serpent Commander Heuloix waving to him.

“Ah, Private Tia! It’s good to see you, Papalymo and Yda indicated that you were not joining them.”

“I… found myself available,” he replied. ‘Private Tia’ sounded weird. He had decided to re-enlist with the Immortal Flames, but since no one remembered him, they thought it best that he be started at the bottom so as not to be seen as showing favoritism. Still, hearing a rank was strange.

“That’s good, because we appear to be at an impasse. Yda reported that the Sylph Elder appears to be missing. They were last seen in the vicinity of the South Shroud. Near Buscarron’s Druthers.”

Diveh nodded and frowned. “How do I get there?”

“You’ve been to Tam-Tara, right? Same direction, but instead of veering to the right, keep going straight and you’ll hit Buscarron’s. He can direct you from there as needed. Yda and Papalymo are there already.”

“Thank you.”

“Hopefully we’ll see you soon with good news!”

Diveh collected Q’weh from the stable and teleported them both to Bentbranch’s Aetheryte. From there he and the chocobo made their way south past the Tam-Tara Deepcroft and into the South Shroud. He could tell when he reached the southern part of the Black Shroud. Even with the sun up, it was darker here, the trees were thicker. As someone used to the deserts of Thanalan, it felt intimidating. 

Buscarron’s Druthers was a small tavern with a few houses and a yard with a loose wall around it. It appeared to have adventuring types standing guard at the gates and they just nodded to him as he entered. He left Q’weh by the Chocobokeep, telling her to behave, and warning him that she had a mind of her own; and entered the tavern. Sitting near the door, he found Yda, looking bored and leaning on her elbows. He pulled out a chair and sat down across from her.

It took her a moment, her eyes had been trained on the table at first. Then she frowned and if she hadn’t had her mask on, he would have been able to watch her mind go from the table to his hands, to his elbows, to his chest, then his chin, and his face. She seemed to stare at his face for a moment before finally exclaiming, “Diveh!”

He raised his eyebrows in amusement. “Yes.”

“Diveh!” she exclaimed again, straightening in her chair. “I… I thought you… I mean. I don’t know what was going on, but we were told to leave you alone and that you might not come back!”

“Well, I am here, aren’t I?”

“Yes! I mean, yes. I’m glad, Papalymo and I have hit a dead-end. We went to Little Solace to speak with the sylphs and they didn’t want to talk to us at first, and we had to run around and do all sorts of chores and dancing and it was very silly. Then they were willing to talk to us, but we found out that their elder was missing!”

“And last seen near here.”

“And last seen- You know already?” He nodded. “Oh, well Buscarron’s been keeping an eye out… Oh, he only has one eye, that’s pretty funny. Keeping an eye out. Um, I mean…” she hurried on, noticing Diveh’s one eye rolling at her. “Anyway, we haven’t heard anything for a few days. He asked Papalymo to go deliver something for him in the meantime while we wait, and I caught a Gridanian who was taking bribes from the Empire!”

“Wow, you’ve done a lot in a few days.” She beamed at him and nodded. 

“I just wish we could find the sylph elder.”

“Well then, I have good news for ya then.” Diveh and Yda turned to the voice, which was of a hyre with grey hair and an eyepatch. Buscarron, Diveh assumed. “They’ve been sighted is the good news. The bad news is that they were sighted going into the Thousand Maws of Toto-Rak, which is a cavern near here full of all sorts of nasties.”

“That won’t be a problem for us, will it Diveh?”

“It will be if we don’t wait for Papalymo,” he replied. “Sturdy as I may be, I still need a healer when stuck underground.”

“We’re just going to get the sylph leader. I mean, how far could they have gone if it’s full of monsters and things? Besides, Papalymo is a terrible healer.”

Diveh had to concede to that point. It was doubtful the sylph elder would have gone far into the dungeon if it was as dangerous as Buscarron claimed.

“We’ll only go as far as it takes to find the elder, okay?” She was so excited, and he didn’t think it would hurt if they weren’t going very far in. Diveh shrugged and stood up, letting Yda lead the way.

As soon as they stepped outside, they were accosted by a green floating creature with an onion shaped head attached to a cabbage shaped body.

“Walking ones must help! Elder one went into Toto-Rak, but hasn’t returned! These ones were being chased by Imperial ones! Please, please help!”

“The Imperials were striking this far into the Shroud just to capture the sylph elder?” 

“I doubt they went into Toto-Rak, it’s got Twin Serpent guards outside the gates. The elder might just be hiding inside and didn’t know it’s safe to come out yet!” Yda said, tapping her cheek as she thought. Diveh frowned, but gestured to the sylph.

“Lead on.”


	18. A Simple Gift

“We won’t have to go in very far, you said. The elder is probably just inside, you said.” Diveh pulled cobwebs out of his hair and shook the sludge off of his boots as they exited Toto-Rak, the sylph elder in tow.

“Look at the bright side! We saved the elder, AND we learned about the Ascian that’s been messing things up!” Yda replied.

“Yeah, right before he tried to kill us,” Diveh retorted.

“Oh, this one is so happy to be outside again,” the Elder said, stretching their arms. “This one is called Frixio, and will return to Little Solace with Noraxia. Please meet this one there!”

Yda waved as the sylph drifted off, taking the other, younger sylph, with it. Diveh nodded to the two floating creatures and sighed as he tried to wipe the viscous liquids off his shoes.

[Darkness…] _Laughter_. [They told me you don’t remember anything. How fascinating.] _More laughter_. [ ...The mighty slayer of Ifrit comes now to me. With a countenance that still bespeaks understanding. I must needs choose my words with care.]

Lahabrea, he said his name was.

They made their way back to Buscarron’s and found Papalymo waiting. “Yda! You could’ve been killed going in there by yourself!” he scolded, shaking his finger at her.

“Not with Diveh! We were fine!” Papalymo looked past Yda to Diveh, who looked a lot worse for wear than Yda did. If he was surprised to see Diveh, he didn’t show it.

“At least you had the good sense to take him with you, even if you both should have waited for me.”

“That’s what I told her,” Diveh interjected.

“We couldn’t wait! A sylph came and begged us to rescue the elder! They were being chased by Imperials! Also, there was an Ascian named Lahabrea!”

Diveh pulled more cobwebs out of his hair as Yda argued with Papalymo and sat down at the nearest table. Buscarron brought him a glass and a bottle of something and gave him a wink before moving back behind the bar. Diveh looked at the bottle suspiciously before smiling. Blackbelly Whiskey. He poured himself two-fingers and knocked it back, waiting for Papalymo and Yda to stop arguing.

He savored the second drink more slowly, as the two were really starting to heat up. If they weren’t done by the time he finished this drink, he was going to Little Solace without them.

Luckily, just as he was reaching for the bottle to pour his third drink, the two were done. He sighed, disappointed, but closed the bottle and took it and the glass back to Buscarron, along with some gil and a generous tip. 

“Say, if you’re going to Little Solace, take this with you.” Buscarron pulled a small vial of oil. “It’s Azeyma rose oil. As a present for their elder’s safe return.”

Diveh took the vial and looked at it, sniffed it and then nodded, putting it safely into a pouch. He turned and left the tavern, following Yda and Papalymo as they walked east. In Quarrymill they stopped for the night, as it was getting dark, and in the morning continued into the East Shroud until they reached Little Solace.

Papalymo hailed one of the sylphs, reluctantly doing a little dance. “Hello Komuxio!”

The sylph in question danced in response and flew forward to them. “This one has been expecting these ones! This one will fetch elder one!”

Komuxio spun happily again and flew off toward one of the wooden structures before returning with the older, white sylph. Papalymo went through the motions of offering a letter from the Elder Seedseer and thanking them for their continued friendship. Frixio responded positively and explained that the ‘touched’ ones were not violent unless their territory was infringed upon, and that so long as they were left alone, Lord Ramuh would not be summoned. Frixio then wrote this all down in a letter for Kan-E-Senna and gave it to Papalymo to take back.

The three of them turned to go, when Diveh remembered the rose oil. At the same time, Frixio came forward. “This one would speak with walking one, if you please.”

“We’ll go on to Gridania and deliver the letter. Meet you back at Waking Sands!” Yda waved to Diveh as she and Papalymo went on ahead. He nodded and turned to the sylph, reaching to get the oil out of his pack. He held it out for Frixio.

“This is from Buscarron. He said it was a present to celebrate your return to Little Solace.”

Frixio took the oil and sniffed it before dancing happily. “Walking one Buscarron? This is a lovely gift, this one is very grateful. Especially to walking one Diveh. This one wishes to thank walking one.”

Diveh blinked and frowned. “How did you-?”

Frixio tilted their head to one side, then the other. “Walking one Diveh does not remember? This one is sad that walking one Diveh does not remember meeting this one before.”

His eye widened and he leaned forward. “Do… do you know me? From before the… the Calamity? I lost all my memories. I don’t remember anything before the Calamity.“

They floated back in surprise. “Oh no! This one is sad that walking one Diveh lost their memory! Yes, this one knows walking one Diveh. Walking one Diveh was very helpful to these ones before. Though other ones may not remember walking one Diveh. Young ones’ memories not always good, all walking ones the same to them.”

Diveh snorted at the joke and smiled. “This one would give walking one a gift.” He watched as Frixio brought forward a hand-sized crystal that glowed a soft magenta color. Immediately, the crystal rose and seemed to be absorbed into him. Frixio gasped.

“This one knew that walking one had a cruel fate. This one is sorry that walking one Diveh must follow fate again into darkness. Keep crystals safe, they will be of use to walking one in future.”

He felt winded after receiving the crystal and his head hurt again. This was the second time he felt like he’d been taken somewhere else. The floating sigil he’d seen before was there again, and this time there were three crystals. He nodded to Frixio. “You… there isn’t any way…?” He swallowed, unsure how to ask the question.

The sylph seemed to know what he was asking, and flew forward, touching his head. A pale green light came from their palm for a brief moment and then the elder sylph floated back again, shaking their head. “This one is sorry, but walking one’s hurts are too grave for this one to heal, and magic blocking walking one’s mind is too strong for this one to dispel.”

That was something. Magic blocking his mind. He needed to find someone who could possibly remove the magic block, someone well-learned and powerful.

Urianger and Y’shtola.

Diveh took a deep breath and tried to calm himself. “Thank you, Elder Frixio. I will keep the crystal safe, I promise.”


	19. Noraxia

Minfilia stared at the door. She knew he was on his way, Tataru had sent her a message via linkpearl. He was the one, she knew he was the one that Louisoix had spoken to her about. The one like her who would bring the dawn, but if she angered him or pushed him to leave, they would be lost. These thoughts were making it difficult to attend to what Alphinaud was saying.

She forced herself to look at the young elezen. “How fares the investigation?”

He smiled at her. “Well enough. Thancred is sparing no effort. They are many and one just as we suspected, their purpose still eludes us however.”

“I see,” she said, nodding. Was he standing outside? He hadn’t entered yet, and it seemed like forever ago that Tataru had told her he was coming. “I meant to ask, how is Alisaie? I feel like I haven’t seen her at all in recent days.”

Alphinaud shrugged. “You haven’t, and neither have I. She is determined to walk her own path. Stubborn girl. And on that note, I should leave you. I hope the Baldesion report will serve you well.”

Stubborn family, Minfilia thought, not without fondness. Alphinaud turned and left the room. As the doors opened, she saw Diveh coming toward them. He and Alphinaud passed briefly, and she thought she saw a spark of recognition in Diveh’s eye, but he continued into the room. The rest of the Scions were gathered already, to hear Alphinaud’s report, as well as Papalymo and Yda’s. She realized then that he had not been introduced to Biggs and Wedge.

“Well everyone, it’s good to see you all,” she smiled, trying not to look directly at Diveh. “Some of you weren’t present when our new members arrived, so let me reintroduce them. This is Biggs and Wedge. They’re from the Garlond Ironworks and are here to help us in whatever way possible.”

Biggs and Wedge looked around and saw Diveh, who they waved at before Minfilia continued. “Now that we are sure that Ramuh is taken care of, and there are no other imminent summonings taking place, I believe we will have a brief moment of respite! I pray you all take this time to rest and recover.” She glanced at Urianger. “That includes you.”

He smiled at her and bowed. “As my lady wishes.”

The group began to disperse and Diveh came forward to Minfilia. “Diveh, I am so-”

“Don’t.” He put his hand up. “You did what you thought was best at the time, and while I am still upset about it, I’ve made my decision not to let it get in the way of what we’re doing.”

She nodded, “I was so relieved to hear from Tataru that you’d come back and asked about Papalymo and Yda. Then they told me you helped them. Thank you.”

Diveh shrugged it off. She noticed he was watching Thancred closely and looked over. Thancred didn’t appear to notice he was being watched. “Hey, what’s that around your neck?”

The other man looked up at Diveh. Minfilia looked and saw a leather cord with some jewels on it under Thancred’s normal white collar. She raised her eyebrows, he usually wasn’t one for jewelry. Beside her, Diveh’s tail was twitching back and forth, something she’d learned from Y’shtola meant that he was probably agitated.

“Oh this?" Thancred fingered the necklace and shrugged. "Given by an adoring admirer.” He grinned. Diveh’s eye narrowed, but he didn’t push it, instead turning back to her.

“I did learn something interesting from the elder sylph though, I’ll tell you about it later.” She nodded, unsure why he wouldn’t tell her now, but he had already turned and made his way to the door. Minfilia breathed a sigh of relief. That had gone much easier than she’d expected.

Until the scream from Tataru.

Diveh threw the door open and they all crowded around to find Tataru on the floor and a sylph flying over her.

“Walking one Diveh! This one is most dependable of these ones! Elder one Frixio sent this one to help!”

Minfilia heard Diveh call her ‘Noraxia’ and the sylph flew down and offered Tataru a hand. “Let these ones be friends?”

The Waking Sands was starting to get a bit crowded. It made Minfilia feel extremely satisfied.


	20. A Break

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have missed so many weeks, I am so sorry! Work and life happened then I kept forgetting.

“Arenvald, you are terrible at this game,” Diveh said, placing his last card on the table. The other man groaned and threw his remaining card down.

“No matter what rules we play, you always win! You’ve gotta be cheating somehow!”

“Nay, I hath been observing.” Both of them turned their heads to Urianger, who was sitting nearby with a book. “He hath a very specific technique that doth change depending upon the rules and the cards he hath chosen to use. There is no dishonesty, only pure skill.”

“He just learned to play the game a week ago!” Arenvald argued, making Diveh laugh. “You were lying weren’t you? You really did know how to play!”

Diveh shook his head, still chuckling as he put the cards back together again. “No, I really did learn last week, though that’s not to say that perhaps I knew how to play previously and don’t remember.”

“Bah, blaming your memory. I’m on to you, old man.” Arenvald finished his ale and got up. “Someone else come play with him, I give up!”

“I will!” Haribehrt came over and plopped down in the chair that Arenvald had vacated. “So what is this, Queens? Three card stud? Go fish?”

Diveh rolled his eye and leaned back. “You know what we’re playing, Haribehrt.” The Ala Mhigan laughed and pulled a deck out of a pouch. The two sat and played a few hands of Triple Triad before Haribehrt gave up and someone else took his place. Diveh had been enjoying their few days off, getting to know the other recruits. Some, like Arenvald, had the Echo, while others just felt that the Scions were the best place to be if they wanted to protect and change the world.

He liked them. When Liavinne finally gave up with a laugh and light kick to his shins as she left the table he leaned over his mug and finished it off. The room was dimmer now, most of them having gone off to bed. He looked over at Urianger, who was still ostensibly reading a book.

“You might as well come over here and pretend to do that, I doubt you can actually read with those on in the dark,” Diveh teased, leaning back in his chair and stretching his legs out. He watched as Urianger hesitated, then placed a marker in the book and stood up. He came over and sat down in the chair across from Diveh.

“I was not sure if you would welcome my company.”

The elezen seemed nervous and Diveh’s face softened. “I am sorry about our last meeting. You were merely a messenger, and just happened to be a convenient subject for my frustration.” That appeared to ease Urianger’s mind as he relaxed in his seat. “So what have you been over there pretending to read?”

Urianger put the book on the table and slid it over to Diveh. “I hath been reading in earnest,” he said, “But, the light hath been too dim for a bell,” he admitted at Diveh’s raised eyebrow. Diveh took the book in his hand and looked it over. It had no title on the cover, and was leather-bound. He opened it and looked.

“A book about magic affecting the mind?” Diveh looked surprised, closing the book and pushing it back to Urianger, who was looking at him oddly. Or at least, that’s how it felt. It was hard to tell with his eyes behind the darkened lenses of the goggles.

“Where did you learn to read Sharlayan?”

“What?” Diveh looked at the book and back to Urianger again. He took it back and opened it once more, looking at the pages. It was then he realized that the script was not in common, yet somehow he could read it. “I… don’t know. Probably the Echo, but why are you reading about magics that affect the mind?”

Urianger flushed. Diveh could actually see his lower face and neck grow a light shade of red. It was sort of cute. No, it was incredibly cute. “I heard thee speaking with Y’shtola about what the Elder Sylph told you.”

“I… appreciate that.” Diveh had meant to ask them both, but Y’shtola had immediately begun hypothesizing and he knew that Urianger already did so much research for the rest of the Scions. “I had not wanted to overburden you with something that isn’t as important as the research you do on Primals.”

Shaking his head, Urianger smiled slightly. “It is no burden. I also hath the Students of Baldesion to assist my research on Primals.” He thought for a moment. “Which reminds me. They responded to my question about the different ways the Echo hath manifested in thee. They seemed rather… confused. It appears ‘twere records stating treatises hath been written on the subject, but they art unable to locate them.”

“Odd. I expect they’re very good at keeping track of their things.”

Urianger nodded. “However, it is possible that they are at the Great Library in the ruins of Sharlayan in Eorzea, but their records indicate that they should not be.” He pursed his lips. “I apologize for not having a better answer for thee. I will continue searching.”  
“As long as you don’t overwork yourself. I’ve noticed that’s a common trait amongst Scions,” Diveh said, smiling. “In fact, we should probably both turn in for the night.” He stood up and stretched.

“I shall stay a while longer, but you have my thanks.”

The miqo’te looked over his shoulder at Urianger and shrugged. “Alright, but I’m going to tell Tataru where you are on my way to my room.”

“‘Twould be a cruelty,” he replied, but the elezen was smiling, he felt butterflies in his stomach that he tried to ignore.

“Yes, perhaps, but if it gets thee to bed, then it’s worth it.” Diveh grinned in return and made his way slowly through the tables to the door leading out of the common room. He glanced over his shoulder and saw that Urianger was putting the book away and beginning to snuff the few candles still burning. “Goodnight.”

“Sleep well,” was the soft reply.


	21. Wrath of the Titan

“The Maelstrom requests our assistance.”

Diveh opened his eye blearily and looked up at the figure standing over his bed. He had just spent the past week running all over Thanalan and the Shroud chasing Ala Mhigan children and maidservant murdering mistresses and he was tired. He had climbed out of his dirty, bloody clothes, and climbed into his nice, soft bed around two bells after midnight. Judging by the lack of light in the hallway behind the miqo’te standing over him, it had probably not been more than a few bells since he’d collapsed.

“Y’shtola, unless the Waking Sands is on fire, I am not moving from this spot.”

He heard her snort in amusement. A wave of her hand and the candles in his room all lit. Diveh groaned and pulled a pillow over his head.

“A group of kobolds have summoned Titan. You have the dubious honor of being the only qualified person in Eorzea of dispatching him, so up and at ‘em!” 

He whined under the pillow until a shock of cold turned the whine into a yelp and he was sitting up. “You cast Blizzard on me!”

She only shrugged, but she looked smug. Ooh, he was going to get her back for that. “Wait, while you’re sitting up and are mostly unclothed, stay still a moment.”

“What-” Y’shtola turned him so that she could look at his back in the candlelight.

“Hmm… Yes,” she traced a finger along his shoulders, which would tickle if most of it wasn’t deadened scar tissue. Y’shtola let go of him and started back toward the door. “Meet you in the solar in five minutes!” she called over her shoulder before turning in the doorway and grinning at him. “Nice ass by the way.”

Diveh threw his pillow at the doorway as she disappeared around the corner with an evil laugh.

Six minutes later - he counted just to spite her - wearing breeches, tunic, and boots, Diveh entered the solar. Minfilia was there with Y’shtola, looking far more awake than was fair this early in the morning. She smiled at him brightly and he groaned.

“Diveh! I am sorry that you had to be woken so soon after going to bed, but Titan’s summoning qualifies as an emergency, I think.”

A moment later, Thancred entered, then Papalymo, Urianger, and Yda. Minfilia waited till they were all assembled before explaining what was going on. “A group of kobolds near Limsa Lominsa have summoned Titan. The Maelstrom has sent over all the documents they have on the kobold’s recent doings.”

“Unfortunately, the only known instance of a group vanquishing Titan was by the so-called Company of Heroes, which have since disbanded. We must fear the worst, and be prepared. Titan did untold damage before the Calamity,” Y’shtola continued.

“Without the help of Leviathan, by himself, he may be more manageable,” Papalymo pointed out. Y’shtola nodded.

“Yes, but he is still very dangerous.”

“So Y’shtola will go with you to Limsa then?” Thancred spoke up. Diveh looked at the other man. The hairs on the back of his neck stood up again. The last time he’d seen Thancred, he’d felt this irrational urge to throw him out of the room, and he wasn’t sure why. That new necklace bothered him, maybe he just hated the color.

“I didn’t think it was in question,” Y’shtola responded with a smile.

“Good, then Thancred, Yda can you inform the other Grand Companies then? See what support they can give us. Papalymo, please compile all the research we have on Titan. Urianger, can you get a message to the Students of Baldesion… and to Alphinaud, please?”

There was nodding all around. Thancred and Papalymo both left the solar immediately, but Yda detoured over to Diveh. “Wow, Diveh! You’re really handsome underneath all that war paint!”

He flushed, staring wide-eyed at her as she scrutinized his face. “I mean, you have a lot of scars, but you really are pretty nice to look at,” she grinned and poked his chest. “Also, I didn’t think the light green was your real hair color, but this proves it.” The light dusting of chest hair was peeking out from the v-neck of his tunic and he took a step back from Yda. 

“Yda!” Minfilia admonished her, next to her Y’shtola was chuckling softly. The other woman shrugged and grinned.

“Someone’s gotta let him know these things!” She skipped out of the room, not sorry in the least for the embarrassment her lack of tact caused. Diveh looked down at his chest hair and frowned. Did people really think his hair wasn’t its natural color?

“There is a bet amongst some of the Scions whether thy hair, tail, and beard ‘twere colored by the Aesthetician or whether ‘twas natural,” Urianger explained.

“Have they never seen a green-haired miqo’te before?” Diveh asked, somewhat amused.

“None paired with someone of thy skin color.”

“They could have just asked.”

“Where’s the fun in that?” Y’shtola replied, shaking her head. “Go get ready, Diveh. We’ll be leaving for Limsa Lominsa as soon as possible.”


	22. A Modest Proposal

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry I've been terrible about doing this on time lately. My work schedule went back to semi-normal so I keep forgetting when I get home from work. :(
> 
> Kudos to anyone that can spot the movie reference and which movie it is though! ;)

“No, absolutely not. I am not going to run the length and breadth of Eorzea for some sort of hazing ritual. This is ridiculous!” Diveh had his arms crossed and was shaking his head.

“Diveh, we must cooperate with them. They are the only ones who know how to get to Titan. We can’t risk drawing him out of the mountain, even if he would come out. The landslides will cause untold damage to already sparse farmlands,” Y’shtola argued. “I know it’s ridiculous. I agree that it’s ridiculous, but if this is how they wish to play the game, then we have to play it their way.”

“I’ll go through the bloody front door if I have to,” he retorted. “This is stupid and a waste of time.”

“Even you can’t fight all of the kobolds in that mountain,” Y’shtola replied, rolling her eyes. “I’ll go back to Waking Sands and see what Papalymo and Urianger have turned up. Maybe we’ll find an alternative. In the meantime, however, I suggest you cooperate.”

Diveh made a disgusted noise and turned his head away, annoyed. A merchant princeling on his own private beach with his own private guard and aetheryte. It was intolerable. He even had a bevy of dancing girls wandering around scantily clad.

He frowned and stared at the group of girls. There was one that-

To Y’shtola’s surprise, Diveh ducked behind a pillar. “I’ll go. Wherever he says. I’ll do it. What did he say again? Fallgourd Float? Where is that?”

She frowned at him, tilting her head and looking around to see if she could figure out what had spooked him. “It’s in the North Shroud. Go to Gridania and leave from the Yellow Serpent Gate. Why this sudden change of-”

He was already casting the teleport spell, she saw him glance back at the group of girls a few yalms away before disappearing. She sighed and shook her head. _Men._

*

It, unfortunately for him, wasn’t long before Diveh returned to Costa del Sol - he’d found Landenel attractive and amusing. When he arrived at the aetheryte, he looked around carefully. No dancing girls. Quickly, he sprinted to Wheiskaet. “Fine, what next?”

The captain looked amused, his eyebrows raised. “Cheese.”

“Oh, buggering son of a-”

“Goblin cheese to be exact,” Wheiskaet continued, ignoring Diveh’s language. “Brayflox Alltalks is bringing it herself, but she’s run into some trouble over by Longstop. Give her a hand and then stop in Wineport. Shamani Lohmani will be able to supply you with wine. Did Landenel send you to U’odh already?”

Diveh sighed and rubbed his face. “No, he did not.”

“Forgotten Springs then, is your final destination. U’odh Nunh will give you your task.”

He paled. A nunh in the Sagolii Desert. “U-U’odh, you said?” Forgotten Springs was on the northern end of the desert, technically within Thanalan and therefore under the protection of Ul’dah. It would probably be fine.

“You’ve gone pale there, son. Perhaps this is too much-”

“No! No, I’m fine.” He took a deep breath. The U-tribe. It was probably fine. Then again, she was all the way up here in La Noscea, who was to say there weren’t any of his tribe in Forgotten Springs? “Brayflox, Lomani, and U’odh Nunh.”

Wheiskaet nodded, looking slightly concerned, but curious. Diveh rolled his shoulders and turned to leave. 

The dancing girls were back again. He turned back toward Wheiskaet, gave him a nervous smile and then carefully made his way around the giant plant display behind the captain. _Don’t run, don’t run, don’t run. It will only attract their attention._

He breathed a sigh of relief when they were out of his line of sight. Looking around, he thought carefully about how to escape without notice. He moved to the edge of the raised walkway and looked down. That wasn’t too far. He climbed over the edge and dropped the few yalms to the ground before whistling for Q’weh.

So far, Costa del Sol was not his favorite place in the world.


	23. As the Worm Turns

“State your business, adventurer.” The miqo’te was probably in his forties or fifties, his skin brown and wrinkled from the desert sun and his fur and hair was mostly gray and white. Diveh bit his tongue and took a slow, deep breath.

“Wheiskaet sent me to gather something from you,” he said, pointing his gaze above the nunh’s head.

“Bah, I haven’t any idea what he sees in you and until I do, you’ll get no help from me.”

Diveh clenched his fists and closed his eye, counting slowly to ten.

“Hm, you’ve seen your share of battle, that much is clear. You have a temper on you too,” U’odh said, glancing at Diveh’s hands.

“Only when it comes to pompous nunh’s who are playing games with people’s lives for the sake of a stupid series of ridiculous tests,” Diveh snarled, his eye opening. He saw the two Tias that were in the room startle and put their hands to their weapons. U’odh raised an eyebrow. He hummed and looked Diveh up and down again.

“You are of the desert. What tribe are you?”

“I have no tribe,” he replied, crossing his arms and looking away.

This surprised the nunh. “You have not made your own tribe since you have left your home?”

“This has nothing to do with my purpose here. What am I supposed to get?”

“Take this spear. Use it to draw out an Amalj’aa warrior. Bring me his necklace to show the deed was done, and I will tell you what ingredient you are to collect.”

Diveh grabbed the spear, snorted, and stalked out of the room. He ignored the other miqo’te and mounted Q’weh, hoping to get out of there as quickly as possible. Turning Q’weh’s head he rode out of the village that reminded him very much of a home he could never go back to.

_“He’s a curse, he’ll bring the whole clan to ruin!”_

_“Born under the sign of the Destroyer and killed his mother doing so! He’s bad luck!”_

He had to stop Q’weh on top of a dune and get off. He needed to focus. Diveh slid off of the chocobo’s back and sat in the sand with a sigh. He looked out over the landscape and could see where the Amalj’aa had probably made their camp, and further past where the landscape broke into rocky valleys that led further into the desert, south to the ocean. His village was that way. No, not his. 

Diveh knew the story, he’d heard it being whispered around him enough times. He’d been born in the 4th Umbral moon, his mother a Moonkeeper and his father the nunh and leader of his tribe. His mother died in childbirth and the midwife had a “vision” from Azyema telling her that this child born under the moon of the Destroyer would bring ruin and dishonor to the clan. Said midwife had also been the mother of his older brother. He fought hard to learn everything he could, to be the best at everything, to prove them all wrong.

Then he challenged his father. It was the next natural step, and if he was nunh they had to know the midwife had made it all up. His father could continue as clan leader and then someday he’d be clan leader and one of his sons would be nunh. They fought and he won. He was nineteen. His father had a few wounds but nothing life-threatening. He told Diveh he was proud of him, and then the next morning he was dead.

Poisoned.

The clan was never very big, probably only ten to fifteen members at any given time. It didn’t take long for them to find the poison in his room and on the blade that he’d used in the challenge. They ignored his protestations of innocence, what need had he for poison? But he was cursed. The only other male in the village, his older half-brother, took the position of leadership and nunh. He granted “mercy” on Diveh for his “crime” and banished him instead of killing him outright for supposed murder.

Diveh ran his fingers through the sand and tried to focus on his task. The U-tribe was not his tribe, and while the nunh was definitely a pompous ass, he had not been the one to banish Diveh from the only life he’d known.

He got up and brushed his hands off before climbing back onto Q’weh, pointing her nose toward the small growth of brush he’d seen near the Amalj’aa camp. He still had to finish these silly tasks.

When he got there he could see the collection of tents against the rocks and waited until he knew an Amalj’aa had seen him. Then he deliberately planted the spear in the ground and waited.

It took them a bit of time. He watched as a few of them seemed to go back and forth amongst themselves, gesturing at him and then arguing again about something. Finally the biggest of the lot came striding out. He had a necklace around his neck and that was all Diveh cared about. He approached, looked straight at Diveh, and pulled the spear out of the ground. Accepted the challenge then.

Diveh smiled and drew his sword. He had some frustration to release and this Amalj’aa was the perfect target.

The battle was decidedly short and Diveh sighed as he bent down and picked up the spear and pulled the necklace from the beastman’s neck. The others stayed away, acknowledging his win and allowing him to leave unmolested. He and Q’weh walked across the dunes, avoiding the sandworms and bombs. It was getting late.

He walked into the village and suddenly all the sounds around him stopped. He looked up to find everyone was staring at him. A moment later U’odh Nunh came out into the square, flanked by the two Tias, and the conversations slowly started again.

“I know who you are now,” U’odh said. “Hah. Cursed? They would probably fall over themselves to see you now, slayer of Ifrit, Scion of the Seventh Dawn.” He was smiling wickedly at the thought. Diveh threw the necklace and the spear on the ground at U’odh’s feet.

“I’m on a time limit. What am I supposed to get?”

U’odh waved his hand and turned to the Tia with blond hair, who handed him a bag. He offered the bag to Diveh. “Wellwick worm meat. I will not insult you with further trials, Q’diveh Nunh, Child of the Sands.”

He felt his tail and hair bristle at the name and he snatched the sack from U’odh’s hand. He looked around and saw that most of the U-clan was watching him. He mounted Q’weh and glared down at the old miqo’te.

“My name is Diveh Tia. They lost their right to claim me.”

U’odh seemed to nod with understanding as Diveh cast the teleportation spell over himself and his chocobo.


	24. The Company of Heroes

Y’shtola was waiting for him when he returned. The sun was going down and the platforms were lit up brightly. It would have been pretty if he wasn’t so exhausted. He thrust the bottle of wine and the sacks of different foods into Wheiskaet’s hands and sat down on the planks. 

“I’ll have you know, I had to fight a dragon for that fucking cheese,” he glared up at Wheiskaet, who laughed.

“How’d you get this wine though? This is quite possibly worth more than the entire complex!”

“I killed mosquitos, got a poor Dalmascan a job in Wineport, collected some Palm Wine, and then had to kill a giant, angry gobbue.”

“Seems like you got the better end of the deal there.”

“The gobbue had a growth of Bacchus grape vines on it.”

Wheiskaet’s eyes widened and he whistled. “Well then. I guess I should say welcome to the guests of honor then.” The roegadyn grinned at them both. “Welcome, guests of honor.”

“You accepted all of that with more grace than I would have,” Y’shtola replied.

“I’m going to stab him in his other eye,” Diveh replied, which only made Wheiskaet laugh louder. From around the plant that was behind Wheiskaet, the other members of the Company of Heroes appeared. 

“What is your assessment?” he asked the group. They looked at the bedraggled miqo’te.

“He’s a sad sack of shit,” Landenel said after a moment.

“You fight an adamantoise, an angry gobbue, a dragon, and an Amalj’aa chieftain on four hours of sleep!” Diveh retorted, his ears laid back. He wasn’t going to get up quite yet. But he could still reach their ankles from here.

Landenel laughed. “But he’s brave. I’ll give him that.”

“Wiley uplander is tricksy foe for mighty rockman!” Brayflox continued.

“He’s kind and generous as well,” Shamani added with a smile. “He helped Drest in a way I was never able to, and as a result he may finally see his family again.”

“He is a Child of the Sands,” U’odh finished. Diveh’s eye flashed but he bit his tongue. The sands threw him out and rejected him, screw the sands.

“Then I say he is a worthy challenger,” Wheiskaet turned to face the tired man before him. “Eat, drink, and be merry, my friend, for tomorrow you face Titan.”

Diveh sighed and rubbed his face before pulling himself to his feet again. “With all of those weird bloody ingredients, this had better be a spectacular meal,” he growled and turned toward the platform where the feast was. He immediately turned around again and looked around desperately for a place to hide.

“Q’diveh?”

His entire body tensed at the name. He’d finally been caught.

“It _is_ you isn’t it?” She came past him on the platform and planted herself between him and Wheiskaet. The miqo’te woman was dressed in dancer’s attire. Her visible skin, which was quite a bit, was the same tone as Diveh’s, and her eyes were a bright honey-gold color, also matching his. Her hair and tail, however, were black with a slight tinge of red around the ends.

“Q’whisra?” Wheiskaet looked askance to the woman, though when she turned to face him, the resemblance was quite clear.

“This is my brother,” she said simply. “Whom I was under the impression was dead.”

Diveh turned and walked away without a word as soon as her back was to him. Q’whisra ran after him, leaving the rest of the group with wide eyes and unanswered questions.

She caught up to him at the chocobokeep. He was scritching Q’weh’s neck and hoping that Y’shtola would get whatever information they needed so he could leave.

“Q’diveh!”

“That is not my name anymore,” he said, his voice low. He turned his head slightly to the left so he could see her. She stopped short, giving him an odd look. Her tail was thrashing back and forth in annoyance.

“Why are you acting like this?” He noted that she sounded genuinely confused, which made him frown.

“What way should I be acting?”

She shuffled for a moment before coming up next to him, looking him in the eye. “You’re acting like the last twelve years didn’t happen.” He searched her face curiously.

“You said that I was supposed to be dead.”

“Yes! You... You went off with that elezen to Sharlayan and then came back all… weird. Then you came back and the Grand Companies started up again, and you joined the Immortal Flames and ran off to Carteneau and got yourself killed!” Her voice gradually got louder and she began speaking quickly, the words pouring out. “If you’ve been alive all this time! You’ve been gone for almost six years, Q‘diveh! The last time I saw you, you kissed me on the forehead and told me you’d be back soon and then I never saw you again!”

Q’weh trilled and flapped her wings, agitated at the tension in the air. He reached into his pack and gave her a leaf of gysahl, then tipped the chocobokeep and gestured for Whisra to follow him. He found a bench further away from the party and sat down, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees.

“I have no memory of anything that happened after the day I left the desert,” he said, looking at the sand. She sat down next to him.

“What?”

“I woke up, five years ago, in an infirmary. They told me that I’d been in a battle at a place called Carteneau and that I’d barely survived. I spent a few weeks there, recuperating. Gradually, my memories returned, but only up to the day that the clan exiled me. Everything after that is blank.”

She was staring at him. He could feel her gaze assessing him, deciding whether he was telling her the truth. He sat up straight and reached up, pulling his eyepatch off before turning to face her. Her eyes widened and he heard a small gasp. Hesitating, she reached for his face, which he shied from at first, but she gently pushed his hair out of the way so she could see him more clearly.

He watched as she studied his face, her fingers gently touching the scars there. Eventually she seemed satisfied and her hands dropped to her lap. She was silent as he replaced the eyepatch.

“You left the desert,” she began. “And made your way to Ul’dah. There, you joined the Brass Blades. I knew, of the two of you, that you would never resort to underhanded tactics like poison. He set you up somehow. I know he did, but I couldn’t prove it, and everyone always said you were a curse, so no one would listen. So I left too. I followed you to Ul’dah.” Her voice was steady as she recited their history. “My hunting skills weren’t much use in a big city, so I took to dancing and waitressing to make money. You got so disillusioned with the Brass Blades and all of their corruption after almost a year and quit. I couldn’t make enough for both of us, so you offered your services as a sellsword. That’s when you got that silly tattoo.” She smiled and looked at his shoulder, which was covered by a leather pauldron, not knowing that the tattoo was gone.

She pursed her lips before continuing. “You’d always had that… that talent of yours. Ever since you were sixteen. This man, this Sharlayan man, an old elezen, came to the house one day. He’d hired you to help with something and when the job was done, he came to find you. You two stayed up talking till the early bells. He seemed to know about your talent and basically begged you to come with him, to leave Ul’dah. You finally agreed, and left.”

He shifted slightly, watching carefully as she tried to choose her words. “You would send money, and write to me, but you were gone for close to six years. When you came back, you had a new tattoo.” She reached up and touched his neck. “It was there. It looked like the ones that woman you were with has. You told me that there were things happening in the world, things that you and your talent could help with. That you’d been learning how to use it, gaining knowledge. General Aldynn reinstated the Immortal Flames soon after and you joined them, but they sent you off with that Sharlayan man again. I didn’t see you at all until a few days before the battle at Carteneau happened. You came to the house, you were talking as if you knew you weren’t going to come back. You kissed me on the forehead and promised you’d see me soon, but I didn’t believe you. _You_ didn’t believe you.”

Tears started to pool in her eyes. “I went to the infirmaries and helped as much as I could. I looked all over for you, but I never found you. They told me that the Sharlayan man and the group with him had been at the center when Dalamud turned into that awful dragon and that everyone was gone.”

“That’s why, when I saw you earlier, I swore you were a ghost. Or perhaps I’d just seen what I wanted to see. You disappeared again so I thought it was my imagination, but then I saw you sitting on the platform by Wheiskaet, and you looked too tired and annoyed to be anything but yourself.”

Diveh reached over and wiped the tears from her eyes with a soft smile. “I’m sorry I made you cry.”

She smacked his hands away and rubbed her face. “You’d better be! Where have you been all this time?!”

“Lost Hope.”

Her eyes widened and then she put her head in her hands. “I didn’t even think to check the refugee camps.”

“Why are you here?” he asked her, nodding toward the bright lights and loud music of Costa del Sol.

“I wanted to get away from Ul’dah. With you gone, I couldn’t make enough to live anymore. My bow skills are better welcomed in La Noscea, but I was so rusty by the time I got here, that I had to fall back on dancing. Luckily, they pay their dancers much better here than in Ul’dah.”

“Perhaps we can shake the rust off those skills and you can come with me back to Waking Sands.”

“What’s that?”

“It’s a place in Vesper Bay. The Scions of the Seventh Dawn. We fight Primals.” He smiled.

“Were you the one!? They said that the Amalj’aa had summoned a primal and that a miqo’te killed it and saved a unit of Immortal Flames!” Her eyes were wide and her mouth hung open slightly.

He flushed and rubbed the back of his neck. “Uh… well... Yeah. That was me. My talent. It’s called the Echo. It makes me uniquely qualified to fight Primals. In fact, we’re here because we’re trying to find a way into the mountain the kobolds live in. They’ve summoned Titan.”

“And you’re going to fight it?” He nodded. “When?”

“Tomorrow, probably.”

She stood up and grabbed his wrist. “We have to feed you. You look a mess. You need to eat and sleep and maybe get laid.” Diveh was pulled to his feet and dragged back up the platform, toward the party. “I have friends, they’d totally want to bang someone as handsome and famous as you!”


	25. All Good Things

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warning for Minor Character Death spoilers.

He had slept in Limsa Lominsa for almost 24 bells after the battle with Titan. He had been so exhausted. Thankfully, the exhaustion had probably staved off any nightmares that might’ve followed. The battle had given him the same feeling of deja vu that Ifrit had, and there were times that his body was reacting to something his mind hadn’t caught up with yet, again seeming to know what was about to happen. He’d found another crystal at the end, and had seen the same vision of the giant floating crystal saying the same four words.

When he’d finally awoken, he took a long, hot bath, almost falling asleep again, and checked in with Baderon of the Adventurer’s Guild before teleporting himself and his sister to Horizon. Y’shtola had stayed behind in the mountain to take readings of things, so he thought she was probably back at the Waking Sands by now if she wasn’t still there.

“What’s going on over there?” Whisra asked, nodding to a few people lingering uncertainly outside of the Waking Sands. He frowned as they got closer and put a hand to his linkpearl. “Tataru?”

He blinked in surprise when his reply was static. He tried again, and then again. 

“Did you hear the yelling?”

His ear twitched toward one of the people standing outside. “Stay here,” he told Whisra quietly and walked into the building.

Nothing seemed amiss, other than a lack of Tataru in the entry. He went down the stairs and found the door slightly ajar and a metallic smell rose to his nostrils. 

“I smell blood,” Whisra whispered in his ear, startling him.

“I told you to stay out there!”

“Since when have I ever done anything you told me to?”

“Since you have rusty hunting skills, no bow, no armor, and have no idea what you’re walking into and I have killed two Primals, that’s when.”

She rolled her eyes at him and pushed the door open. “Azeyma have mercy!”

He followed quickly behind her and watched as she ran to the nearest body. The blood was old, he could tell by the smell and color. Diveh ran past her and pushed open the next set of doors. He found a dead Imperial here, and continued into the solar. On the floor he saw Noraxia, who appeared to still be alive.

“Noraxia,” he knelt next to the sylph and they touched his hand.

“This one… is glad that… walking one Diveh… is safe…” they appeared to have been holding on for gods knew how long while he slept in Limsa. He gasped in pain as his head began to throb and he was pulled into an Echo.

Whisra came into the room and found her brother unresponsive, kneeling next to a strange creature.

“Please, this one… had to give a message,” the sylph whispered, reaching a hand toward Whisra. Suddenly Diveh moved again, taking the sylph’s hand. 

“I wish you had stayed hidden Noraxia, I’m sorry I wasn’t here,” he said gently.

“This one... tried to protect walking... one Minfilia,” they continued. “This one… was to tell… walking one Diveh… Go to… church… in eastern Thanalan… This one… failed… Forgive this… one…”

They were gone. Diveh took a deep breath before standing up again. “Did you check the other rooms?”

His sister shook her head and he left the room. He went into the common room and looked around grimly.

“There!” Whisra pointed across the room, her ears facing forward. Diveh followed her finger and moved across the room quickly to find Arenveld still breathing. The boy didn’t seem to be bleeding very badly, he’d gotten a knock on the head. Diveh lifted Arenvald over his shoulders and carefully walked back to the hallway. He nodded toward the door on the far end.

“Open that one, it leads to the barracks and bedrooms,” he told her, his voice still low. She followed his directions and he carried Arenvald into his own room, laying the boy on the bed. Diveh opened the drawer next to the bed and pulled out some linen rolls, handing them to his sister. “I’m going to check the other rooms, can you wrap him up?”

She nodded and took the linen from him. Diveh then went from door to door, trying each one. He found a few unlocked, but no bodies on this side. When he got back to his bedroom he pulled out a pouch of gil and handed it to Whisra. “Go out into the town and scream bloody murder. The villagers will help. See if you can get a cart to take the bodies to the lichyard. Oh, and go to the Pissed Peiste and ask Folclind to take care of Arenvald. I… I have to take Noraxia back to their home in the Shroud. Meet me at the lichyard, okay?”

Whisra took the money and caught his hands. “What are you going to do? Weren’t these the Scions you told me about?”

“We’ll figure that out at the lichyard. Not everyone is here, so there are still some alive out there, and some were taken prisoner.”


	26. You Can't Take it With You

He trudged up the hill, walking with Q’weh toward the lichyard. He had seen a chocobo carriage leaving Drybone as he approached, likely the bodies being delivered. Noraxia had been taken back to their home in Little Solace. He hoped they would be at peace. When he reached the top of the hill, he looked out over the lichyard, staring at all the different headstones and sat down in the grass. Diveh turned away from the tombs and looked at the view across Eastern Thanalan. 

He hadn’t been there to protect them.

If he’d just gone straight back to Waking Sands instead of letting them all push him into resting in Limsa, he would have been back in time. He could have stopped it.

 _No, you couldn’t have_ , a voice inside told him. _You were exhausted, you would’ve been captured with the rest._

He could have bargained at least. Saved some of them.

_Like Minfilia tried to?_

He was the one they wanted, maybe he could have bargained better.

Q’weh trilled and pushed her head against his shoulder. He sighed and looked up at her with a tired smile, letting her encourage him back onto his feet. Scratching her neck, he gave her a treat before continuing into the churchyard. His sister was there, watching for him.

“The priests are taking care of everything. Folclind is watching over Arenvald,” she told him. He nodded and walked with her into the sanctuary. Father Iliud came to him and took his hands.

“I’m glad you’re alright, Diveh. This is a terrible tragedy. You can stay here as long as you need to.”

He smiled and nodded. “Thank you, Father. I just need some time to think.” Father Iliud nodded and Diveh sat down in one of the pews with Whisra. A moment later, Marques came over, sitting on his other side. Diveh smiled at his friend. “Hello Marques. This is my sister, Q’whisra.”

Marques nodded to Whisra, looking surprised. “Did you remember something, then?”

“Oh. No, we happened upon each other in Costa del Sol, though she remembers a lot of what happened to me. Which, now that I think about it, is strange. Everyone else has forgotten about me, how is it that you remember?” He frowned, looking at Whisra, who shrugged. 

“I don’t know. I still have all your letters. I read them sometimes. Maybe that helped?”

“How about you, Marques. Have you been alright?”

The other man started to nod, then tilted his head slightly, thinking. “I’ve… It’s strange. I’ve been given some items lately that are… familiar to me. A horologe, an alembic, things like that… And I was able to fix them.” Marques frowned. “I don’t know how I knew what to do, but it felt… right.”

Diveh raised his eyebrows, interested before glancing at his sister. “Sorry, Marques lost his memory too. Though all of his memory is gone. He’s been here with the Father since Carteneau.”

Understanding dawned, and Whisra nodded her head with a smile. “So, what are we going to do?”

“ _We’re_ going to do nothing. _I’m_ going to see if I can figure out where they took everyone.”

“Don’t be ridiculous, you can’t do that by yourself,” she retorted.

“What are you going to do to help? Throw rocks?” She glared at him, crossing her arms and puffing out her cheeks, annoyed that he was right. She needed to rebuild that muscle memory for a bow again before she could hope to do more than stand on the sidelines and watch him get smacked around.

Behind them, the doors to the church opened dramatically as a young elezen with white hair and a blue outfit came into the building. He stopped and looked around, his gaze settling on the three of them. Diveh recognized the boy, he’d seen him leaving the solar, and he was pretty sure he saw the boy running around Ul’dah with another who looked like him, only with a red ribbon in their hair. He stood up, facing the young man, who was looking somewhat put out.

“Hmph. I was hoping I would be the first to talk to you,” he said, sounding disappointed. “You’re Diveh Tia, yes? Minfilia has told me about you.”

“Yes…” Diveh crossed his arms. “What are you doing here?”

“Looking for someone,” the boy said with a condescending smile. “I plan on rebuilding the Scions of the Seventh Dawn.”

Diveh raised an eyebrow. “Well, you’ve found one.”

He grinned at Diveh. “You were not who I was looking for, though you are a welcome sight. I came here to find the finest engineering mind in the world.” He pointed to Marques, who looked confused. “Cid nan Garlond!”

The three of them stared at him in silence. The boy sighed, his dramatic flourish going to waste. “Him, right there, in the brown.”

Diveh looked at Marques, who looked at him, then back to the boy. At that moment, Father Iliud came forward. “I’m sorry, young man, but this is just a poor soul who witnessed the horrors of Carteneau.”

Marques stood up. “Wait, I…” He put a hand to his head, wincing in pain. The boy seemed excited and came closer to them.

“Please, Cid! Eorzea needs you!”

“I…” He looked confused, turning back to Father Iliud then to the boy again. “Who are you?”

“Alphinaud Leveilleur, at your service,” the boy, Alphinaud, said, bowing. Father Iliud looked at them all, and then to Alphinaud before turning back to the altar.

“Wait one moment,” he asked, disappearing into the front of the church. He returned a moment later with a large box that he put down on the pew near Marques.

“You had this with you when we found you,” he told them, gesturing to Marques. Diveh watched as the man walked over to the box and opened it. There were tradesman covers to prevent burns, gloves, a large golden object on a chain, and tools. Every imaginable tool. Marques- Cid took them out of the box and stared at them for a moment before collecting all the items and disappearing in the same direction the Father had come from. A few moments later he returned, his brown cowl and robes gone. He was more muscular than Diveh had thought, but he looked the same. Though… he looked more himself. Diveh couldn’t have explained it, but the clothes suited Marq-err, Cid. 

“Already, the news is spreading about what happened in Vesper Bay,” Alphinaud said, taking them all in. “And to make things worse, the Ixal have summoned Garuda. The Grand Companies are too busy seeing to their own hurts so it falls upon us. The Students of Baldesion have informed me that she surpasses the strength of both Ifrit and Titan, and is known to have an appetite for destruction.”

“Lovely,” Diveh said, sighing.

“In order to reach her we need to get through her defenses and the only way to currently do that is with an airship… Your airship, Cid,” Alphinaud said, finishing his little speech with a grin.

“I have an airship?” Marques-Cid said, looking at Diveh and Whisra, who both shrugged.

“It was last seen in Gridania, right before the Calamity,” Alphinaud affirmed with a nod.

“Let’s stop at Waking Sands first,” Diveh said, looking at everyone. “Y’shtola was still in Limsa last I knew, she may have returned. Also, I want to check on Arenvald.”

Alphinaud seemed to consider this and then nodded. “Let us go then.”

Diveh turned to Cid and Father Iliud. “We’ll be outside, take your time.”

He pulled his sister with him out of the church, leaving Cid and Father Iliud to say their goodbyes alone. Outside, Q’weh was standing next to Alphinaud, nudging the top of the boy’s head. Alphinaud brushed the chocobo away, looking annoyed.

“Leveilleur?” Diveh said, distracting Q’weh with some greens.

“Yes. My grandfather was Louisoix.” Diveh winced as his head throbbed at that name. He tried to ignore it by fussing with Q’weh’s barding. “Minfilia told me about their theory.”

“Which theory is that?”

“That you’re one of the missing Warriors of Light.”

Whisra made a strange strangled noise behind him and he turned quickly to make sure she was alright to find that she was leaning over a tombstone laughing until she coughed. She looked up at him and that set her off even harder. He rolled his eye and turned back to the chocobo.

“Marques, err… Cid likely has no way to get to Vesper Bay on his own. I’ll bring him. You two can meet us there.”

Alphinaud shrugged and Whisra waved her acknowledgement as she tried to catch her breath.

“We’ll see you in Vesper Bay then.”


End file.
